


1722

by Koryos



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 103,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koryos/pseuds/Koryos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When 17-year-old Klavier Gavin returns home from a successful tour abroad to start his prosecuting career, he expects his brother to be happy to see him. Instead, he finds that Kristoph is ignoring him in favor of his new assistant, 22-year-old Apollo Justice. At first, Klavier is jealous of all the attention Apollo receives, but as he learns more about Apollo's gift for seeing the truth, he forms an obsession of his own.</p><p>(Fic takes place in an AU where State vs Gramarye takes place seven years later, and Klavier is seven years younger.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU may be a bit confusing, but essentially it's just teenaged Klavier from Turnabout Succession instead of 24-year-old Klavier. Daryan is also 17, but everyone else is the age they were at the beginning of Turnabout Trump.
> 
> Hopefully the rest of the little changes I've made will be easy to pick up.

It was not a good sign for Klavier when the happiest greeting he got upon his return from Europe was from a dog.

"Ow, ow. Fräulein, I am not a rawhide."

He extracted the retriever's teeth from around his wrist, where there was now a row of pinkish indentations. At least, he _thought_ the dog's greeting was happy. Her tail was wagging, anyway. She just kept biting him on the wrists with her sharp little milk teeth.

"Vongole!" 

Klavier's head jerked up, and he spotted his brother walking towards him with a wan smile on his face. Vongole released his hand and ran to do a figure eight around Kristoph's legs.

"I'm back," said Klavier, after a moment of silence.  

"I've noticed," said Kristoph. "How was Borgnia?" 

"The same as ever, _mein bruder_ ," Klavier said, affecting a stronger accent. "We had a grand tour. Every venue was packed. Daryan was-" 

Kristoph cut him off. "I assume the fact that you are back means that you are ready to take yourself seriously?" 

 Klavier paused a moment, fiddling with the ring on his right middle finger. 

"I've been serious this whole time. Rocking, prosecuting- they are equally important. I have taken an important step in my rock career. I mean to do the same with my prosecuting career now."

Kristoph smiled at him. Klavier knew that smile- it was the smile his brother reserved for the things he thought were exceptionally stupid.

"That is good to hear, Klavier. Are you going to the prosecutor's office now? I was heading out myself; I can drop you off." 

"No need," Klavier said. "I have my hog, after all. Just wanted to drop by and pay my respects first, ja?" 

Kristoph pushed his glasses up a bit. "Paid in full, then. Do stop by the office sometime. I'll take you out to lunch, to celebrate your return."

"Thanks," Klavier said, unable to think of anything to add.

"I'll see you later, then," Kristoph said. "I've got to put Vongole back into the house before I leave."

"Consider getting something for her to chew on besides my hands," said Klavier, as a parting shot. Kristoph didn't even respond to this, just smiled thinly and took the dog's collar.

Klavier watched his brother's retreating back and wondered what he was expecting. Three months had gone by since they'd seen one another face to face, but Kristoph hadn't gotten a degree warmer since before he'd left. But that was normal- Kristoph had never been a sentimental person, especially when Klavier did things he disapproved of.

But now that Klavier was setting his sights on prosecuting, Kristoph _would_ thaw a little, Klavier decided. Surely he, too, was looking forward to Klavier's first case, which was in less than two weeks- the first case in which they would face one another on opposite sides of the courtroom. That had to mean something to him.

Or maybe he was just deluding himself, in the end. He sighed heavily and drew his fingers through his bangs. He was already missing the loud clamor and warmth of the crowds as he stood there with his stupidly expensive boots getting damp from the dew on his brother's lawn. Here it was empty, empty, empty- silent, neat, and empty.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, Daryan came by the prosecutor's office to help Klavier finish unpacking. He greeted what existed of Klavier's setup with a whistle and a raised eyebrow.

 "Audible, much? I dig it."

"Surely it doesn't compare to the offices at Interpol," said Klavier, who was crouching in a nest of wires behind an oversized speaker. "I hear you get free lunch service there."

"Yeah, if you like cafeteria food, I guess," said Daryan, poking at a stack of binders with his toe. "Hey, did the guitar get here yet? You know- _that_ guitar?"

"It'll get here tomorrow," said Klavier, brow furrowed as he threaded another cord into the already-bristling power strip. "I chose comfort over speed, for that one."

Daryan shook his head, wordlessly, but Klavier paid him no mind. "That's the last one. Help me push this back."

Daryan went to the other side of the speaker and helped him push it flush against the wall. "Are three monitors really necessary here? How many pairs of eyes have you got?"

"I'm capable of multitasking," said Klavier, a bit more tersely than he normally would have. It was Kristoph, Kristoph was getting to him. "The more noise there is, the better I can think."

"Huh. I guess."

"You should worry about yourself, ja? Like figuring out how a member of Interpol that can't fly in an airplane is supposed to do his job."

Daryan flashed him a sharp grin and stroked the underside of his pompadour. "There's plenty of stuff to do on the ground, friend. What's got your hundred-dollar-panties in a twist? You still mad I couldn't come on tour?"

"You can't fly if you can't fly," said Klavier, shrugging lightly- though truth be told he still _was_ a little irritated at having to be one band member short for a tour this important. "I went to see my brother."

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Tightass Corkscrew. I got you. Man, I get pissed off just thinking about him."

Klavier smiled. "He invited me out to lunch, you know. You should come."

"Yeah, right. Your bro hates my guts. One of us'd come out of that lunch dead or unconscious." Daryan laughed in that unpleasant way of his.

Klavier had to laugh, too, at the thought. "I can see you getting rough, but my brother's never done a single violent thing in his life."

"That's what you think, man. Your brother's cold-blooded. He swallows his prey whole so you never see the evidence."

"Did you just compare my brother to a snake?" 

"Yeah, a snake, that's what I was thinking of. Why- what's so funny?"

Klavier just shook his head, grinning. The thought of Kristoph's face if he could hear their conversation now was simply priceless. He loathed reptiles and their ilk- if it wasn't mild-mannered and furry, Kristoph'd have nothing to do with it. And now it was Kristoph Gavin, the slimy belly-crawler. It was a mean thought, but it made him feel better.

"There was something else I wanted to ask you about," said Daryan.

"What?"

Daryan pulled a twelve-string guitar out of a box and strummed a chord. "That needs to be tuned, man."

"What, Daryan?"

Daryan flicked the strings with one finger. "I just wanted to ask if you were sure about the show being so soon."

Klavier frowned at him. "It's over a month away. It's our welcome-back show- it should've been sooner!"

"You know what I mean, man. So soon after your prosecuting debut. I don't want you conking out because of stress. You're already stressed. Stop giving me that look."

"Prosecuting isn't stressful," said Klavier. "It's like rock. It soothes my soul."

"You haven't even been on a case yet, Klavier."

"I am not exactly unfamiliar with how the law goes, Daryan. I've been watching Kristoph-"

"Yeah, and that's why you're gonna get stressed," Daryan cut in. "'Cause it's not just prosecuting, it's prosecuting against that frigid-ass brother of yours. And it's not just rock, it's rock in the same country as that frigid-ass brother who hates our music. I mean, whatever! You say you can handle it, you can handle it. I just hate it when you get all pissy on me over these things."

"I get _pissy_ only when people aren't performing correctly. You do your job, Daryan, and I'll do mine. You will have nothing to worry about."

"That's not what I'm worried about," said Daryan, but he seemed ready to let the matter drop, and turned his head away, giving Klavier the benefit of his pompadour's full glory. "You almost done here? 'Cause I was gonna ask you out to lunch, too, before ol' Corkscrew got the idea."

Klavier let out a slow breath, feeling all the tension he'd gathered drain away. "Yes, of course. Let me find my keys."

 

* * *

  

It would be four days before Klavier finally showed up at Kristoph's office to take him up on his offer, and even then it was only reluctantly. Much to his surprise, it was his brother who broke first and called him.

"I thought you would stay at home since you are prosecuting now," was the first thing he'd said. Klavier had squirmed, sweaty in his undershirt in Daryan's apartment, which was sans air-conditioning at the moment.

"I've still got responsibilities to the band," he'd replied, aware that this was what Kristoph least wanted to hear. He was uncomfortably aware of the muffled blaring music coming from behind Daryan's closed door. "Besides, you and I are on opposite sides now. We shouldn't risk sharing information."

Kristoph had paused, while Klavier continued to sweat on the leather sofa.

"True enough," he had finally conceded, and Klavier sank back into the cushions. "But that does not mean we cannot treat each other like brothers anymore. Come to my office tomorrow. I'd like to see you."

And that was that.

Kristoph would want- would _expect_ \- him to show up in something formal. A suit. Something that would mark his transition from play into work. Klavier flicked open his shades. Kristoph didn't need to have everything go his way.

He secured his motorcycle, then strolled down the street, hands in his pockets. A soft gasp from his left alerted him, and he broke into an easy smile, flashing his eyes over his shades at the pair of girls standing across the street. From the sound of their titters, it was appreciated.

Klavier Gavin was a prosecutor, but he was a prosecutor who dressed the part of the Gavinners' lead guitarist and vocalist. He dressed _cool_ , with his dark purple jacket and heavy boots and jewelry emblazoned with the band's emblem. The courtroom would be spinning the moment he walked in. That was what he wanted. It would keep spinning and he would win, and the poor defenseless "defense" would never have time to set its head straight.

Klavier paused. He'd reached his brother's office, where simple lettering spelled out his brother's name on the glass door.

Admittedly, there would be no spinning Kristoph. That would be a fight where it would be he who was kicking to stay afloat.

But if he could trounce his brother, who'd be left to stand in his way?

He entered the office and the cool relief of its air conditioning. It was surprisingly dim- the lights were off in the lobby, and only a shaft of light spilled forth from the nearly-closed door beyond. Klavier could hear a pair of soft voices. One was his brother. The other he did not recognize.

"Hold your head up more," came Kristoph's voice.

"I'm fine," came the other- very young, and very shaky-sounding. "You don't- ow!"

"Be quiet for a moment," Klavier's brother said. "Let me look at you."

Klavier took his sunglasses off and held them rather tightly in his fist. The voices dipped down to a murmur, and he strode forward, letting his boots announce his presence, and pushed open the door.

"Ah, Klavier," said Kristoph, looking up briefly from where he held another man's chin. "You caught us at a bad time, I am afraid."

"Mr. Gavin, I said I'm fine," protested the man, pulling out of his grip. Klavier noticed he had a somewhat impressive black eye beginning to develop.

"Take this, then," said Kristoph, holding out something- a damp cloth. The man took it and pressed it against his eye, flinching.

"Was ist das?" said Klavier, impatience creeping into his voice. He stared at the man. Was he a man? More like a boy, really, with his puny stature and big round forehead. His hair was slicked tightly back- well, almost, he'd clearly missed a spot in the front- and he wore a suit in a garish shade of red. It was no wonder somebody'd punched him.

"It seems we have a difficult client this time around," said Kristoph. "Now, Justice, you cannot say I didn't warn you to keep out of sight."

The kid- Justice?- said nothing, only furrowed his brow and dabbed gingerly with the cloth.

Klavier slipped his sunglasses back in his pocket, and the motion seemed to make Kristoph notice him again. 

"My apologies, Klavier. This is Apollo Justice, and I promise you it was not I who gave him that lovely bruise. Mr. Justice, this is my younger brother, Klavier. He is the prosecutor for the upcoming case."

The kid turned and stared at Klavier, apparently just realizing he existed, brow furrowing even further. Klavier was a little taken aback by the intensity of it. It was unnerving- and _rude_.

"This is your client?"

Kristoph laughed.

"Haven't you read the case file yet, Klavier? The defendant is a forty-six-year-old man named Zak Gramarye. Mr. Justice here- I think you'll agree he looks younger than that, no?"

"I've read the file, Kristoph," said Klavier. "He is not a client for another case? Then what is he doing here?"

The kid scowled and opened his mouth. "I'm-" 

Kristoph put a light hand on his shoulder, silencing him. "He's working for me, as an assistant here. He is also making his debut soon."

"This kid?" Klavier said disbelievingly, looking down at him.

"I'm _twenty-two_ ," Apollo finally broke in. "You're not exactly ancient, either, you know."

Klavier was again taken aback, this time twofold- first that the kid had talked back to him like that, and second that the kid was actually five years older than him.

"It was my plan to introduce you two today," said Kristoph. "Since you are both new, I expect that you two will face one another in court very soon. After Klavier and I conduct our trial, of course."

Apollo's eyes on him now looked dubious, and Klavier stiffened. Like he wanted to face some red-vested defense attorney fresh out of his diapers. Was Kristoph _joking_?

"Justice here has shown a great deal of talent," continued Kristoph, voice warningly neutral. _Play nice, children._ "I was very pleased when he chose to work for this office."

That seemed to snap Apollo's gaze off of Klavier- he turned to Kristoph and sputtered. "Oh, no- I haven't- I just-"

Kristoph just smiled, and Apollo fell silent.

"I know you have a personal interest in this case, Apollo," he said gently. "But I need not remind you that that is exactly why you should stay away. Emotional outbursts have no place in the courtroom, and you- well, let's just say you have an unfortunate habit." His smile broadened. "Of telling the truth."

"Mr. Gavin-"

"I can't have you upsetting my client. And it's only one case, Justice. I will see it through for you."

Apollo stayed quiet, and Kristoph gave his shoulder a light squeeze. 

"I will see about our lunch now. It looks as if you'd better not go out, Justice, looking like you do." His eyes flicked briefly over Klavier, and something in Klavier's gut uncoiled. "I think I will go down the street and pick up some takeout, and we will eat here. Does that suit you, Klavier?"

Klavier hesitated.

"Or did you have somewhere else to be?" Kristoph was smiling at him now.

"Of course not," said Klavier, and sank down into the nearest chair. "Quick now, brother. I'm hungry."

"Of course," said Kristoph, with a light laugh. "Always impatient. I will hurry."

True to his word, he was out the door, leaving Klavier in the chair and the twenty-two-year-old kid- Apollo- still standing there with a rag pressed against his face.

For a moment all was silence, with only the soft ticking of the analog clock on the wall marking the seconds.

Finally Apollo said, "Interesting getup you've got going there."

I could say the same for you, Klavier thought. "Thank you. I play for the Gavinners- maybe you've heard of us?"

He said it as a joke, a jest, because _everyone_ knew who the Gavinners were, at least everyone between the ages of fourteen to twenty-four, their designated age bracket. The band was practically an overnight sensation. They'd just come back from their first worldwide tour, for goodness' sake.

Apollo's face showed a complete and utter lack of comprehension. "The… who? Gavinners? Like, from your last name?" A sort of smirk started growing underneath the rag.

"Check the record sales, ja?" said Klavier, in no mood to be laughed at by the likes of this. Now he had a handle on Apollo. There had been hundreds just like him when Klavier had attended law school. Stuck-up, slicked back, know-it-all attorney wannabes who thought appearances won the case. Make that _boring_ appearances. Daryan had had the same problem in police training, and he stuck out just a little more than Klavier did. He'd had a word for the slick kids who thought they were so smart- what had it been again?

"I'm sure it's a great band," said Apollo, like he was trying to mollify him. "Sorry I haven't heard of it. I've been so busy, I just don't get out much."

Klavier gazed up at Apollo's round, earnest cranium. "No worries, Herr Forehead. I am not offended."

"I'm sorry- did you just-?"

"So, how long have you been working for my brother? He's never mentioned you before."

Apollo stared at him, hard. What was with him and the staring?

"On and off, for a couple years," he said, finally. "I took an internship here a while back, and then I went to finish school. Then I applied here two months ago, and Mr. Gavin hired me."

Aha. He must have interned while Klavier had still been finishing up his education in Germany. "Two months ago, hmm? What took you so long to apply? Surely this was your first choice of work?"

Apollo gave him a loaded look, annoyance mixed with a little nervousness. "That's not your business, Mr. Ga- Prosecutor Gavin."

"I like 'Mr. Gavin' better, actually," said Klavier, and earned himself another look, this one heavy with sarcasm. "Do you enjoy working for my brother? I am afraid he can be temperamental sometimes."

"Mr. Gavin? No, he's always been fair," said Apollo, a little too quickly. "He's very good at what he does. I've learned a lot from him. I'm sure you have, too."

Klavier shrugged one shoulder, shifting in the chair, which was- as per Kristoph's taste- stylish but uncomfortable.

"In fact, I'm surprised you chose to become a prosecutor, with him for an older brother," continued Apollo. "Seems like you should want to emulate him."

"In the glorious task of defending the innocent?" Klavier smiled lazily. "Oh, no. There are true criminals out there, you know. Someone has to do the dirty work, ja?"

"I guess," said Apollo. Underneath the cloth, there was a single drop of water rolling down his jawline towards his chin.

"Haven't you ever thought that one day, you might have to defend someone who's truly guilty?" Klavier asked, and ran his fingers through his bangs. "It's all the same."

"I wouldn't defend someone who was guilty," said Apollo. Klavier raised his eyebrows at him.

"How would you ever _know_ , though? You can't, in the end."

"I would," said Apollo. "And I wouldn't defend a guilty person."

Klavier dropped his hand and stared at him, almost impressed. A truly deluded individual. And yet, he had almost sounded… cool, for a moment. Those kinds of brash, self-confident statements of idiocy were what made rock music sell.

"Well, I guess we will find out in court, won't we?" he said.

Apollo nodded, and used the back of his free hand to wipe the droplet off his chin. Klavier's eyes were drawn to the metal bracelet on his wrist- an odd thing for such a proper-looking person to wear, especially such a large and clunky-looking piece.

"Nice bracelet."

"Thanks," Apollo said blankly. "Uh- nice necklace."

Before Klavier could respond, Kristoph returned with a bag of something warm and tasty-smelling.

"Borscht," he said briefly. "Enjoy."

Klavier flicked his eyes at Apollo, who looked away quickly, covering most of his face with the cloth.

It was a very quiet lunch.


	2. Chapter 2

Zak Gramarye, born Shadi Enigmar, aged 44. Wanted for assisting in the suicide of his mentor and employer, Magnifi Gramarye. 

Klavier had been left with a number of questions after reading through the case file. Such as, why had Zak taken on his mentor's last name? His partner, Valant, had done the same, and Klavier couldn't even find any records of what his last name had been. It was all a bit eerie- like a cult. 

Valant Gramarye had been of particular interest to Klavier, because he was going to be his decisive witness. He had been the one to report the crime, after all, and one didn't indict one's partner of murder very lightly. 

The Gramaryes were booked in a hotel, and not a particularly high-class one, Klavier observed. Leaving his hog left a little tug at his heart- it felt so vulnerable and alone out there in the trash-strewn parking lot. Clearly the magic business hadn't been paying well of late. 

"Excuse me?" 

Klavier was jarred out of his thoughts from where he'd been hovering just in front of the hotel entrance. Not because he was nervous or anything, interviewing his first witness, but- 

He turned with a patient smile fixed in place. "Fräulein?" 

"Sir," she said, smiling and touching the brim of her hat, which was blue silk. He was impressed, looking at her, wearing that ridiculous magician's outfit in the empty parking lot as though she were ready to perform on stage. 

"Do you have any bread, sir?" 

Klavier was taken aback by the question. This finely-dressed magician girl, begging for bread in front of a hotel- how bad _was_ the magician business? 

"If you are hungry, Fräulein, I can get you better food than bread," he said. "If you wait here-" 

He was interrupted by her giggle. "No, no, it's not for me! I wanted to feed the gulls!" 

"Oh," said Klavier. There _were_ a number of the white birds loitering around the area, he realized, probably on account of the trash. Some of them had their yellow eyes on him. He felt another tug of anxiety for his hog. 

"I'm sorry I mistook you for a vagrant," he told her, and leaned forward, exercising his charm. "I thought it was strange, with how wonderfully you dress." 

She blushed and giggled again, an appropriate reaction. "Thank you for offering to feed me, anyway. You're a kind person!" 

"My offer still stands, of course," he said, fiddling with his ring. 

"Oh, I can't," she said. "I have to go out to eat with Uncle Valant, otherwise he forgets. He gets so caught up in things, you know!" 

"I know," said Klavier, smiling as if he did. "Well, maybe you and your Uncle should both come to eat with me. I'd like to meet him." 

"Did you come to see him?" she asked, and though she was still smiling, Klavier noticed the way her gaze had suddenly sharpened. "You look a little fancy for a reporter." 

_Cool_ would have been preferable to _fancy_ , but Klavier kept his peace. "I am not a reporter, Fräulein. I am a prosecutor." 

What remained of her smile went out like a light. 

"A prosecutor for… a murder case? Against Zak Gramarye?" 

Ah. Now he understood. 

"Yes. I'm sorry, Fräulein." 

"It's all right," she said, and the smile returned, though weaker. "Everybody has a job they have to do. Like I have to perform Grandpa's tricks and- and feed the gulls." 

Her face was lined, Klavier noticed, and her eyes were puffy. And she looked so young. 

"Will you show me where your Uncle's room is?" asked Klavier. "And then- I will buy you lunch. If you'd like." 

She smiled and tipped her hat. "I'll take some bread, Mr. Prosecutor Prince. For the seagulls. Now follow me!" 

"With pleasure," said Klavier, and found he meant it. He liked her. 

In the hotel she deigned to take the elevator and instead bounded up the stairs, making him have to hurry behind her in a less dignified manner than he would have liked. He wasn't sure if it was calculated or not. Her face gave away nothing, like any true magician's. 

Valant Gramarye met them at the door to his hotel room, and for a moment all Klavier could think of were the words _yellow_ and _mustache_. 

"Trucy!" he exclaimed, with a grand sweep of his arm. "The leftover dinner rolls- have you seen them?" 

"No," said the girl, and winked at Klavier. 

"Bizarre!" exclaimed the man, fiddling with his cane- and then he noticed Klavier. 

"Prosecutor Gavin! It is you, isn't it?" 

"Yes," said Klavier, surprised. 

"You have the look of your older brother," Valant noted. "But not, I see, the same taste! I much prefer your choice of garments over his. Though I have to admit, I would have chosen a brighter shade of purple! You see, my boy, it is all about _the impression_!" He twirled his cane and jabbed it at Klavier. "Now, come inside and I will tell you all I know!" 

Trucy was grinning at his expression now. Klavier smoothed it over. "Of course, Herr Gramarye. We will go over your testimony-" 

"Testimony, yes! I was thinking, at the crucial point, I would have my assistant begin distributing handouts for our upcoming show." Valant narrowed his eyes. "But would that be at the phrase 'smell of gunpowder'? Or-" 

"I think I am most interested in the phrase 'IV fluid,'" Klavier interrupted. The man's partner was about to be on death row, and he wanted to pass out fliers? What a troupe. "I received the detective's notes, ja? We must go over your movements of that evening, step by step, to ensure there are no loose threads." 

"Loose threads?" Valant's mustache twitched slightly.  

"He means no lies, Uncle Valant," piped up Trucy. She had that sharp look in her eye again, Klavier noticed. It had a visible effect on Valant, who seemed to shrink back into the entrance. 

"Well- yes! Of course. Trucy! You must fetch us the concierge at once, and have tea brought for the gentlemanly prosecutor and I. Quickly, now- it is essential!" 

"Aye-aye, Uncle sir!" cried Trucy, and skipped off. Klavier was a little sad to see her go. 

"Your niece?" he asked Valant, by way of conversation. 

"Not by blood," said Valant, in a muted way. He tapped the brim of his hat with his cane. "Come in, then! We will discuss IV fluid, among other things. I will gladly spill my heart out to you. Your brother assures me that you are a formidable, though untested, force of law!" 

That was the second time he'd mentioned Kristoph. "When did you get the chance to meet my brother, Herr Valant?" 

"Hmm?" Valant was suddenly fiddling with his cane. 

"It just surprises me that you have met," continued Klavier, "since the defense is not supposed to speak to _my_ witness before the case." 

"Well of course your lord brother would not do that!" exclaimed Valant. "He came to a show! Yes, he came to a magic show, and paid us his compliments afterwards. That was when he spoke of you." 

"Ah, of course," nodded Klavier, as if the idea of Kristoph going to a magic show made any sense at all. "That would explain it." 

"Now, let's hurry, young prosecutor! I would prefer it if Trucy did not view this discussion." Valant's mustachioed face was solemn. "I do not want to upset her." 

"Zak Gramarye is her father, correct?" Klavier followed Valant into the room, noting the overall shabbiness of the place, made falsely bright by the magician's props littered everywhere. "It is unfortunate." 

Valant cast his cane carelessly to one side. "Yes, it is. Would it only be that I could take care of her after her father is gone! But I cannot, alas. The best I can do is to help her make preparations now." 

"I am glad you have such confidence in my abilities, Herr Gramarye," said Klavier. 

Valant spread his hands. "It pains me to say it, but my partner is guilty. Perhaps not of the crime of _murder_ , but he was the one who dropped the curtain on Magnifi. And that, he should not have done." 

"By the way, my sympathies," said Klavier. "For your mentor's passing." 

"Yes. A great pity." Valant's expression did not change. "I am afraid that Zak must pay for his crimes." 

"Crimes?" 

Valant took off his top hat and smoothed the brim. Klavier found himself startled by how long the man's hair was. 

"Our troupe is closely-knit, young prosecutor. Closer than you know. But when my mentor's health stated failing- and after- well, I presume you know the story? I am sure you've read the papers." 

"I'm afraid not," said Klavier. "I've been in and out of the country for the last few years, Herr Gramarye. I am not current on the news of the magical world." 

Briefly Valant looked appalled, but he waved it away. "It matters not. In the end, our troupe has fallen into decline. And with it, my partner's soul." 

"His soul, you say?" 

Valant gave him a shrewd look. "Yes. He wants to reclaim the granduer and adoration we once possessed- Zak does. And that has made him lose sight of many things. You met young Trucy- why, he demands that she be part of the show, just because she possesses some of Magnifi's talent! But- and I mean this kindly- she does not belong there, up on stage with us. She cannot replace what was already lost." Valant hesitated. "Zak has lost control. Yesterday, at the preliminary hearing, I hear he struck the defense attorney's assistant. Why? No one can say! Perhaps the young man looked at him the wrong way!" 

That, thought Klavier, might actually be a possibility, if they were thinking of the same young man. 

"So Herr Gramarye- I mean your partner- he was already a violent man." 

"Unfortunately," said Valant. "He may well have relished the opportunity to end Magnifi's final act." 

"I see," said Klavier. "Then it will be my duty to see him pay for that, ja? Let's speak about your testimony." 

"Yes!" said Valant, leaning forward eagerly, like a child. "Let us do so, Prosecutor Gavin!"

 

* * *

 

"I have a favor to ask of you," said Kristoph, two days later, on the phone. 

Klavier shifted the phone to his other shoulder and mouthed _Turn it down_ to Daryan, who rolled his eyes and slammed his bedroom door. 

"What was that noise?" 

"It was nothing. Something fell off the table. I have something to ask you, _mein bruder_. What are you doing talking to my witnesses?" 

There was a pause, and Klavier could hear the genuine surprise in his brother's voice when he responded. "What do you mean by that?" 

"I mean Herr Gramarye- Valant Gramarye- he claims you have spoken to him before. I did not peg you for the type to go to magic shows, Kristoph." 

Kristoph chuckled dryly. "Sleight of hand has never impressed me, I will admit it. It was not my intention to talk to the man, but it was unavoidable. We did not discuss the case at the time." 

"Unavoidable? How do you mean?" 

"It relates to the favor I was going to ask you, actually," said Kristoph. "I knew the Gramaryes personally before this case ever came to light, you know. It was through Apollo- you remember him, correct?" 

"Yes, he made an impression on me," said Klavier. "But how would he know the magicians? Is he a friend of the girl's?" 

"She is his sister." 

Klavier was silent for a moment. "Zak Gramarye is _his father_?" 

"Half-sister," Kristoph amended. "They did not grow up together, and their mother is long deceased. I believe they only learned of their relationship a year or two ago. It was Apollo who brought me the case when he heard Mr. Gramarye was in trouble." 

"Herr Gramarye does not seem to fond of him, though." 

"I doubt you would enjoy being near a bastard son either, Klavier. That is why I've told Apollo to steer clear of this case. It is complex enough as it is." 

"Hmm," said Klavier. "Certainly the Gramarye family tree is complex, yes. But this case? No, I think it is very simple. It's a pity for you that you will lose so quickly." 

"Indeed," said Kristoph, in a way that made Klavier feel like an overconfident little child."But about that favor. I need you to pick up Apollo for me." 

"What? Why?" 

"Because his cell phone is not working," said Kristoph, the faintest trace of aggravation coloring his voice. "I believe it ran out of batteries. I need him here right now, but I cannot get in touch with him." 

"Pardon me for asking, but why not fetch him yourself?" 

"I can't. I'm quite busy with some errands at the moment." 

"You think _I'm_ not busy?" 

"Are you, Klavier?" 

Klavier hesitated. He was half-lying on Daryan's couch, a guitar in his lap, and the case notes scattered all around on the floor. The air in the apartment had been far too stuffy for him to make any work progress. 

"Where is he?" Perhaps a swift ride on his motorcycle would help clear his head, anyway. 

"At a park. I can send you the directions." 

"A park, eh? He enjoys that sort of outing during the workday?" 

"He became worried about his sister, and asked to visit her. Naturally, I obliged." 

That shut Klavier up.  

"All right, I will fetch him for you. You complete your errands- whatever they are." 

Kristoph sounded amused. "Paperwork. And I've got to mail a letter." 

"Well, enjoy _that_."  

Kristoph was chuckling as he hung up. 

Klavier looked at his phone a moment, then sat up, grimacing when his sweaty back unstuck itself from the leather. Kristoph's mood seemed more and more improved as they got closer to the case. That was normal, though- his brother had always brightened up when he had a project to work on, details to iron out, plans to set in motion. Klavier had to admit that he was hoping that at least a small part of Kristoph's good mood was due to the fact that they'd be competing, this time. 

It had to be more than just a hope. They'd been planning this for years. The moment Klavier had declared his intention to become a prosecutor, Kristoph had been galvanized, immediately ordering the paperwork for Klavier's education. He had brushed away all his concerns. "Age is not a factor in Europe," he'd said. "Only skill. And you have enough skill, Klavier." 

That had been when he was thirteen. His brother hadn't spoken to him like that in a long time. 

Kavier stood up, stepped gingerly over the scattered paperwork, and put the guitar back on its stand. 

Daryan cracked his door open. "Are you still working? You have an _office_ , you know." 

"I'm going out," said Klavier, shrugging on his jacket. "I'll be back later." 

"Out? Where too?" Daryan's mouth was working its way into that familiar smirk, and Klavier wondered if he'd been listening in on his side of the conversation. 

"An errand." 

"For Frosty?" 

"By that do you mean my brother? Can't you stick with a single nickname?" 

Daryan gave him a sardonic look. 

"I'm getting someone for him," said Klavier. "Shouldn't take long." He was willing to bet the words "my brother" and "annoyed" would send that foreheaded attorney running back to the office like his clothes were as red-hot as they looked. 

"What someone?" 

"You're nosy. His assistant." 

"Hmph," said Daryan, an expression of disinterest settling onto his face, and shut the door. Klavier allowed himself a roll of the eyes, and grabbed his keys off the coffee table. 

Kristoph had sent the address to his phone, though Klavier didn't need it once he saw the name. He knew the park- he rode by it all the time, on his way to the prosecutor's office. He'd never gone in, though. 

It was a lovely park, as it turned out- nothing particularly special, mind out, and he'd seen far better things in Germany. Still, the sun was shining, there were children running around playing, and the sounds of gently flowing water came from the stream that passed through it. Most of the people currently there were either middle-aged or elementary schoolers, both outside of the Gavinner's age bracket, so Klavier passed through mostly unmolested. He had mixed feelings about this, especially as some of the looks he _was_ getting were rather disparaging. The sunglasses, the jewelry, and the way his skin peeked out below his jacket apparently did not sit well with parents in their forties and up. 

Klavier made a mental note of this, because it was important to adjust his image to suit the situation.  

It did not take him very long to find Apollo and Trucy, either, because all he had to do was follow the squeals of delight to the source. 

He had to stop and watch too, and even tilt his sunglasses down for a better look. Trucy appeared to be manipulating an impressive pair of woman's bloomers in some manner to the awed faces of a crowd of children. The parents that also ringed them looked as though they had more mixed feelings. But everyone gasped when suddenly, with a wink and a grin, Trucy produced no fewer than _four_ balloons from the bloomers and presented them to the children. 

Everyone clapped, Klavier included. Trucy touched the brim of her hat and then twirled it upside-down. The adults in the audience started digging in their pockets. 

Klavier would have liked to tip her himself, but he hadn't brought any cash with him.  Anyway, he had noticed something else, as the crowd started to dissipate- his target. Apollo had been standing near the back, watching intently and frowning. Kristoph thought that if he frowned any harder he'd give himself a headache, and wondered why Trucy wasn't flinching under the unrelenting scrutiny of that stare. 

That wouldn't do, he decided, and sauntered over to stand beside him. Apollo was so focused that he only noticed his presence when Klavier draped an arm over his shoulders.

"Wunderbar, Fräulein, amazing," he said, over some sort of exclamation from Apollo (it might have been "Whaargh?!"). "I am truly impressed with your talent." 

"Thank you!" Trucy beamed at him. "Polly, look, it's that prince I was telling you about!" 

"You mean the prosecutor," said Apollo, irate now that the surprise had worn off, and ducked out of Klavier's hold. "And I said no nicknames." 

"Herr Forehead, be kinder to the Fräulein," Klavier chastened. "I didn't see you clap for her." 

"Apollo's too busy trying to figure out how I did it to clap," said Trucy. "But that's all right, since he never will!" 

Klavier glanced at Apollo, who had the grace to look sheepish. "She really is good," he mumbled. "Anyway, what are _you_ doing here, Prosecutor Gavin?" 

The bruise still looked fresh on Apollo's face, Klavier noted, and the severe way he was staring at him made him look like some kind of delinquent. Somebody had to teach this guy about _image_. 

"I came to give you a nudge, ja? I hear you skipped out on work earlier." 

Predictably, the blood drained from Apollo's face. "Did Mr. Gavin tell you that?" 

"That and more. My poor brother- so much work, and no one to help him." 

Apollo's eyes narrowed at this, but Trucy darted over and put a hand on Klavier's arm. 

"Can't you tell Mr. Gavin to give Polly a break? He only came by so he could give me something to eat, because I couldn't stop in the middle of work." 

"Your work- you put on magic shows here?" said Klavier, glancing at the upturned hat, now resting on the grass and bulging with loose change. 

"Um- actually, could you keep that a secret? I'm not supposed to perform. Not without Uncle Valant and Daddy with me." Trucy's face was rueful. "I sell balloons here." 

There actually was a little stand nearby, now that Klavier was looking. "But Fräulein, you shouldn't need to do something like that, not when you have this wonderful talent! I am not even sure what I just saw was within the realm of physics. Or logic. Or reason." 

Trucy laughed, but Apollo scowled. 

"Don't encourage her, please." 

"Lighten up, Mr. Sour," said Trucy. "I won't get in trouble. Besides, this makes more money than just selling balloons does." She went over to Apollo and tweaked his hair, which _still_ had that giant cowlick in it. "Don't be worried." 

Apollo muttered something sarcastic in response that Klavier didn't quite catch. Seeing them side by side- and with Trucy without her hat- it was patently obvious that they were related. Same eyes, same sort of physique, same lurid way of dressing- why, Trucy even had a little cowlick of her own, Klavier was amused to notice. The only major difference was personality. What a shame that Apollo's wasn't more like his half-sister's. 

"Anyway, Mr. Prosecutor, you should probably take Apollo back now, before Mr. Gavin gets mad at him," said Trucy, patting Apollo on the cheek, which made him grimace. "Tell him it wasn't his fault, won't you? And I'll give you free ice cream!" 

"Ice cream?" asked Klavier, caught off-guard. 

"I sell that too," Trucy said slyly. "Also hot dogs. And balloons." 

"You mentioned those," Apollo said. "Thanks, but I think I'll be fine walking back on my own. You can get back to your Gavinses, or whatever." 

" _Gavinners_ ," Klavier corrected, mouth curling downwards, then realized that he'd fallen for a goad. Apollo looked just a tad bit smug. 

"Yeah, well, you go play for whoever they are," he said. "I'll get back to my, you know, actual work. As an attorney." 

Klavier flicked his sunglasses higher up on his nose, and turned to Trucy. 

"I think I should walk him back after all, Fräulein. I think he is unwell. He seems delusional." 

"Oh, that's normal," said Trucy. "He's been like that ever since I met him." 

"Who's side are you _on_ ," complained Apollo. 

Klavier put his arm around Apollo's shoulders again, enjoying the tension this elicited, and particularly enjoying the fact that despite the five-year age gap, they were about the same height. 

"This isn't about sides, Herr Forehead," he said. "Of course a defense attorney must argue one thing and the prosecution must rock another, but it is all for the same cause. To see the true criminals behind bars." 

"You think it's not a competition?" Apollo asked, turning his head stiffly to took at him from under Klavier's arm. At close proximity the purplish discoloration around his eye looked quite bad. 

"Of course not," said Klavier. "It's not a matter of 'winning' or 'losing,' but rather-" 

"You're lying," said Apollo, and squirmed out of his hold. 

"I'm not lying. What makes you think that?"

"You are lying. You've been dreaming about the day you'll beat Mr. Gavin in court for forever, haven't you?" There was an odd little smile on Apollo's face. "Only you're going to lose, because Zak Gramarye is innocent." 

Klavier fiddled with his ring. "That is something we have yet to confirm, ja?" 

Apollo and Trucy exchanged a knowing look. "Sure. Whatever you say." 

"Daddy really didn't do it," Trucy added. "I know you're not supposed to believe what I say, but I know he wouldn't kill grandpa. He couldn't." 

"It is my job to believe that he is guilty," Klavier said, though he found he couldn't quite look her in the eye. He was glad for the sunglasses. 

"Sure," said Apollo, who was eyeing him again. "Okay. I'm going back now, Trucy. I better walk the prosecutor back to his bike. You take care." 

Trucy raised up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the food, Polly." 

"Yeah," Apollo mumbled, looking briefly self-conscious, then his eyes snapped to Klavier again. "Hey! Let's go. I don't want to keep Mr. Gavin waiting." 

Klavier said nothing, just turned to follow him down the path and out the gate, resisting the urge to drag his feet. Apollo glanced back at him. 

"That your bike?" 

The motorcycle was deep purple and had a stylized _G_ on it exactly the same as the one around his neck. Klavier wondered if he was being sarcastic. 

"Indeed it is." 

Apollo made a face. 

"What are you making that extremely unpleasant expression for, Herr Forehead?" 

"Well, it would be great if you could _stop calling me that_ ," said Apollo. "And if you could just drop the pretense and talk like a normal seventeen-year-old." 

"What does a 'normal seventeen-year-old' sound like, hmm?" 

"Like- like- hey, I'm not getting into that. Anyway, there's your bike, so you can go now. Thanks for getting me." 

"Oh no," said Klavier, affecting a tone of surprise. "Kristoph asked me to walk you to the office. I can't go back on my word to him." 

Apollo pulled another face but did not argue, to his surprise. He fiddled with his sleeve and started walking again, prompting Klavier to follow. 

"You really look up to your brother, huh?" 

Klavier hesitated a moment. "What makes you say that?" 

Apollo glanced at him, then again. "Uh." 

Their footsteps were loud on the concrete. 

There was a fundamental disconnect going on, Klavier decided. Not just because Apollo was walking like some kind of stiff automaton beside him, entirely ruining the hands-in-his packets casual slouch he had going for himself.  

"So, um," said Apollo, looking like he was grasping for something. "Are you nervous about your first trial?" 

Klavier gave a short laugh. "Are the circumstances always this complicated in murder trials?" he asked- and then instantly regretted it. He didn't want to have to ask _Apollo_ that question, since- first of all- he'd never been part of a trial himself, and second of all it was Apollo, this rude, sarcastic guy that was working for his brother. 

Apollo shook his head, not noticing Klavier's sudden stiffness. "No way. This one isn't even that complicated. I've read up on a lot of the old case files, the ones by- what's-his-name- Gregory Edgeworth. Oh, and Phoenix Wright. You should have been there for one of _his_ trials." 

"Ha," said Klavier. "Phoenix Wright, hmm?" 

"I know Mr. Gavin thinks he's _messy_ , but he's-" Apollo's eyes had taken on a certain gleam. "He's so good at what he does! He's amazing!" 

"Hasn't he retired yet?" 

"No, he hasn't retired! He's still pretty young, you know!" Apollo had flushed a little. "He's only ever lost one trial, you know! Still!" 

"Relax, Herr Forehead, I am not insulting your honor," said Klavier, and Apollo went fully pink. "I just wonder why, even though he's only lost one case, that he's had so few cases offered to him in the first place, ja?" 

"Because people don't get his methods," said Apollo, aggravated. "He's a genius." 

"I would think it's more because people do not want to be certain of getting convicted until the last minute. But clearly you understand him better than I do. I hope to see your special kind of genius in the court soon too." Klavier smiled lazily. "Whenever it is that you do manage to get your own court case." 

"Hmph," said Apollo, and looked away, effectively conceding the point. "The trial is what- the day after tomorrow?" 

"Yes," said Klavier. The reminder was an unwelcome one. 

"Yeah, well…" Apollo rubbed the back of his neck. "Good luck with your first trial, I guess." 

Klavier hadn't been expecting that, but before he could respond Apollo continued. 

"I mean, Mr. Gavin is going to win. But I think he'll let you have some moments, since you're his brother." 

"Thanks, Herr Forehead." 

"Oh, and Trucy's going to be there." 

"Ah. That makes sense." It was her father's trial, after all. Though Klavier found himself wishing she wasn't coming. 

"I wish she wasn't going," said Apollo, unconsciously parroting his thoughts. "But she's got some kind of agreement worked out with him she says she has to fulfill. She won't tell _me_ about it, though." 

"I would not think Herr Gramarye would want his secrets shared," said Klavier. "Not with you." 

Apollo glanced at him. "I guess not. He did deck me the other day." 

"What exactly did you say to him that made him so angry?" 

Apollo shrugged one shoulder and looked away. "Oh… some stuff." 

"Stuff?" 

"Stuff about Trucy, and all. Mr. Gavin told me something Valant had told him, and I guess it made me mad." 

"I take it Herr Gramarye is not the best of fathers?" 

"That's an underst- Hey! I'm not giving information on him to you, Gavin." 

Klavier grinned. "You already told me quite a bit, Herr Forehead." 

"Come on! None of that's going to help you with the case." 

He was right, but Klavier didn't mind watching him squirm. "We'll see." 

The look Apollo gave him was mildly anxious. "If I could be there tomorrow, I'd-" 

"My brother isn't going to let you go?" 

"No!" Apollo huffed. "Says he doesn't want Mr. Gramarye making a ruckus. I don't see how it matters much, since I'd just be in the audience, but-" 

"My brother doesn't want you weakening his case by making Herr Gramarye look like a violent lunatic," Klavier reminded him. "So I suggest you sneak in." 

"Ha ha. Funny. You know, I can't believe how different you are from Mr. Gavin." 

"Yes?" Klavier said. "Siblings are not always alike. Like you and Fräulein Trucy." 

"I guess- wait, how did you-?" 

"It was obvious," said Klavier, shrugging one shoulder. "We've made it to my brother's office, Herr Forehead." Actually, they had made it a little while ago, but their pace had slowed to a crawl past the broad window while they talked. 

"Is that a thing that's going to keep happening? That nickname?" Apollo scowled and tried to smooth his hair. "Anyway, so long, Gavin." 

" _Abschied_ , Apollo Justice." 

Apollo started a little and stared at him, and nearly ran into Kristoph, who had emerged from the office. Kristoph put a hand on his shoulder to steady him and nodded to Klavier. 

"I appreciate the delivery, Klavier." 

"I will expect payment next time, Kristoph." 

"I will take that into consideration," said Kristoph, patting a somewhat flushed Apollo. "In the meantime, I will see you in two days. In court." 

"Achtung, baby!" Klavier grinned. "Prepare to lose."


	3. Chapter 3

Klavier had to wonder, later, what would have happened if Daryan had not been adamant about kicking him out that day. 

"I need my space today," he had insisted. "I got a date tonight and I don't want your Euro-vibes screwing me over. Sometimes chicks dig the metrosexual, but _man_." 

"Yes, I can see how that might be unsettling for her," Klavier said, eyeing Daryan's quivering pompadour. 

"And plus, you've been lying on that couch for a week. It's like you're unemployed! And you stink it up! Get _out_ , Klavier!" 

So Klavier had slunk off to his office, which he hadn't so much as touched since the initial day of moving in. Despite all of the comforting things he had arranged within, it still felt stark and empty. And the soundproofing hadn't yet arrived, so he could only blare his music so loud. 

At least working on the monitors was quite a bit more productive than using Daryan's couch. His paperwork whizzed by like magic. He actually had finished a decent chunk of it before the familiar itch came into his fingers. 

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to put _an entire wall of guitars_ behind his desk in terms of productivity, but Klavier didn't hesitate in the slightest in shoving his chair away from his desk and snatching up the nearest one. Acoustic. Warm brown wood. She was waiting for him. 

He strummed a soft chord, ideas flitting around in his mind- perhaps a man on death row, guilty of only one thing- _love_ \- and also several counts of assault and battery- 

A few motes of dust rose through the air as the strings twanged in a muffled way, and a sudden horror filled him. She was covered in dust! How could he have been so thoughtless as to leave his guitars unattended? The soft little cleaning cloth was still packed in a box of miscellaneous supplies, which he inverted with his toe, loathe to let go of his neglected instrument. 

He was just staring to apply oil to the strings when Kristoph walked into his office. 

Klavier was so surprised he could do nothing but stand there a moment, hand frozen mid-swipe. Kristoph shut the door behind himself and adjusted his lapel. When it became clear Klavier was not going to say anything, he nodded. 

"Klavier." 

"Kristoph?" said Klavier, unable to stop his voice from rising and turning it into a question. "Odd seeing you at the prosecutor's office the day before the trial." 

Kristoph smiled. His expression was rueful. 

"I won't be appearing in the trial, actually." 

Oil was dripping down the neck of Klavier's guitar as his hand unconsciously squeezed. 

"Why not?" 

"Mr. Enigmar," said Kristoph. "It seems he was not satisfied with my performance." 

Klavier stared at him. How could anybody be less than happy with Kristoph's services? His brother was literally the coolest attorney in town. And- and how could Kristoph be taking it so calmly? He was just standing there, arms crossed, still smiling, as if _he'd_ been the one to make a little blunder, and bore nobody any ill will. 

Klavier felt his heart seize. 

"Does this mean-?" 

Kristoph's eyes were gentle. "I won't be facing off with you on your first trial, apparently." 

"Oh," said Klavier. 

"I'm sorry," said Kristoph. "I didn't want things to turn out this way. Truly- I was looking forward to it as much as you were." 

"Yes," said Klavier numbly, unable to respond with anything else. 

"But in exchange," said Klavier, and reached to push up his glasses with one finger, "I brought information." 

"Information?" 

Kristoph's smile dropped. 

"The attorney who'll be there in my place tomorrow is not to be trusted. Don't even give him the benefit of your respect." 

Klavier absorbed this new fact, and suddenly understood. Of course. The attorney who had the gall to seduce his brother's client away- probably with a cheaper price and false promises- certainly he _would_ be scum. 

"Who is it?" 

"You've probably heard of him," said Kristoph. "Phoenix Wright."

 

* * *

 

Klavier entered the courthouse the next day with feelings entirely different from the ones he had been expecting. The eagerness? Gone. The anxiety? Also gone. All that was left was anticipation- anticipation and the righteous anger that would serve to motivate him throughout the trial. 

It had been easy to acquire Drew Misham's cooperation. All he'd had to do was apply the slightest bit of pressure- the slightest hint of what kind of punishment would befall the one who forged evidence- and the man had cracked completely. He would be waiting, now, in the third lobby. Waiting for Klavier to call him. And he would call him. Klavier had no doubt that Phoenix Wright would use the false evidence. Kristoph had shown him everything- the diary, the letters, the tiniest details he'd uncovered. The forgery would be a perfect match, he'd said. Down to the tiniest fibers on the paper. It would fool anyone. 

Not anymore. 

Though, even to himself, Klavier had to admit that there was a sliver of doubt in his heart. _The_ Phoenix Wright? The infamous turnabout attorney? Could he even plan far enough ahead to make forged evidence? 

But the evidence was staring him in the face. The forged evidence. For, just as Kristoph had predicted, Phoenix Wright presented the fake diary page. 

Klavier paced in the lobby as the court's audience shuffled out around him. Drew Misham had been prepped and was merely waiting for his cue to enter once they had all left. A sort of hot excitement was coursing through Klavier's veins. He was doing it, wasn't he? He was purging the court of the rotten bruise that was Mr. Phoenix Wright. He'd been enjoying his all-too-convienient successes for too long. That was how Kristoph had put it, and now that Klavier had seen the truth with his own eyes, it was impossible for him to disagree. He was doing the court a service by wiping out this miserable man. 

Zak Gramarye, or Shadi Enigmar, or whoever he claimed to be, could go behind bars where he belonged. An attorney that forged evidence for their defendant- that lack of trust indicated only one thing. 

"All clear," squeaked the bailiff, looking at him with rather wide eyes. Klavier realized his temper was showing, and smoothed the front of his jacket. He was not upset. He was calm. He was cool. Image, image, image. 

"I'm coming," he said, or started to say, because just then he spotted something odd. In fact, he wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed it before, because it was bright red and had a pair of stiff spines on top. 

Apollo Justice was mingling in the audience, looking confused and a bit out of breath. His eyes were darting all around, like he was looking for something, and he kept rubbing his wrist. 

Klavier was surprised that he'd actually come- and then annoyed. Just because his brother wasn't defending anymore, did he think it would be all right to just show up against his wishes? He turned, planning to call him out and berate him, and then paused. Apollo himself was twisting all around, scanning the crowd feverishly, like he was looking for someone. His eyes passed straight over Klavier without a glimmer of recognition. 

Ah. There was only one person Klavier could imagine Apollo having such concern for. Trucy Gramarye, wasn't it? And where was she? She didn't seem to be among the audience, which was entirely odd, because Klavier had known she'd be there. 

"Prosecutor Gavin?" the bailiff said. "Are you… ready?" 

He was uneasy now. The sight of Apollo had made all that justified rage drain off, for it had reminded him of the most unpleasant fact of the case: the fact that he would be condemning a young girl's father to death. 

He turned back to the bailiff. 

"I'm ready." 

He was no longer quite sure.

 

* * *

 

For a man known for loud outbursts, Phoenix Wright was strangely quiet as the career he'd built up crumbled around him. 

"Do you have an explanation for yourself?" 

That was the judge, from high up on his perch, staring down at Phoenix like a solemn old vulture. 

"If I did, would the court hear it?" His voice was so calm. _He doesn't think this is truly happening_ , Klavier thought. _It hasn't sunk in._  

Drew Misham was staring at Phoenix too, with open curiosity. Probably stunned at seeing the face of his client for the first time. Klavier sort of hated to let him walk away from this scot-free. But Kristoph was right. Which was worse, the forger, or the man who chose to use him? 

And the final player- the only other person left in the courtroom. Zak Gramarye himself. 

The man was nothing like Klavier had expected. Certainly nothing like his partner. Valant was layers and layers of false bravado and pizazz. He couldn't keep still. He grated. Zak was solid, a giant of a man, on whom the Gramarye costume looked feebly undersized. He had a presence- no flashy tricks were necessary for him to get attention. He simply commanded it. 

Right now his expression was one of concern. His eyes were on Phoenix, only sometimes they would drift across the courtroom and land on Klavier. And Zak Gramarye would frown, as if confused about something. 

Klavier could guess what so puzzled him. The man hadn't realized that there would be a Gavin on both sides of the courtroom today. He'd gotten rid of one, but he couldn't budge the other. How unfortunate for him. 

"This is a fatal mistake for an attorney, Mr. Wright," the judge was saying. Klavier felt it was time to chime in. 

"Fatal, too, for your client, I fear." 

Zak Gramarye's eyes were on him again. A piercing look. But Klavier was equal to it. 

"Tell me, what kind of defendant relies on forged evidence?" 

Phoenix slammed his hands down on the table. 

"Your honor, wait! You cannot hold my client responsible for the actions I took as an individual..." 

Had this just occurred to him, Klavier wondered, or was he really that stupid? 

"A close call, ja, Herr Wright? If the prosecutor's office hadn't received that tip, everything would have gone just as you wanted." Had Phoenix not stolen Kristoph's client, he would still have a job. How ironic. Klavier smiled. 

"I even gave you a chance," he added aloud. He _had_. And Kristoph was proven right. And Trucy's father was proven guilty. 

"I see no need to further question the witness," the judge said. "Though I deeply regret having to declare a verdict this way… this trial is over." His wrinkled old face was grave. Klavier thought he looked sad, even. It was probably hard for the old man, having to see one of his attorneys torn down. Having to think of all the verdicts he'd given on forged evidence. 

"You have the right to find a new attorney and make an appeal," he continued. "However, this court must-" 

There was a scrape of a chair as Zak Gramarye stood up. 

"Ah, your honor?" 

The judge blinked. "Yes, Mr. Gramarye?" 

Zak Gramarye smiled. The man really was huge, Klavier thought. He cast an imposing shadow across the defendant's bench. No wonder the bruise he'd given Apollo had lasted so long. 

"There is one thing I'd like to make clear," he said. "Today, in this courtroom, you cannot declare me guilty." 

There was a stunned silence. Zak seemed to revel in it, and grow even larger. 

"It is impossible." 

The judge spluttered for a moment, then managed to compose himself. "I'm afraid the defendant is quite mistaken. I most certainly have the authority to declare a verdict on you!" 

Zak grinned, and suddenly Klavier had a very bad feeling, because he'd seen that exact grin before on Trucy Gramarye. 

"Except…"  

All eyes were on him. Even Drew Misham was holding his hair and his breath. 

"Tell me, how do you plan on announcing your verdict…" 

Phoenix Wright frowned, and for a moment his eyes met Klavier's, and despite everything Klavier knew they were thinking the exact same thing. 

"When your defendant does not exist?" 

"Doesn't exist? What are you talking about!" cried the judge, but Klavier could tell that the old man was too far gone, hooked by Zak Gramarye's superb command of the audience. He was leaning forward on his bench, eyes wide like a child's. 

"I am talking about this!" cried Zak Gramarye, and with a tremendous bang and a billow of glittering smoke, the big man had vanished entirely. 

Klavier coughed, waving a hand in front of his face. No, not entirely, because he could hear heavy footsteps rapidly retreating. 

"Mr. Enigmar!" shouted Phoenix, and Klavier snapped back into attention. 

"The defendant's escaped! Find him! Quick!" 

If anyone had _any_ doubt that Shadi Enigmar was guilty, it was gone now.

 

* * *

 

Kristoph was laughing harder than Klavier had heard him in a long time. 

"In a puff of smoke? Just like that?" He passed a hand over his face. "How cliché!" 

"It isn't _that_ funny," said Klavier, a bit aggravated, because his first trial was a complete disaster, and Kristoph was treating it like a joke. They were seated in his office- Klavier having accepted a mug of steaming tea- and Kristoph was thumbing his chin. 

"I wonder how he pulled it off?"  

Klavier had his own ideas- for example, Trucy Wright had turned up after all, right after the trial. But he had decided not to bring anything up, for he could not imagine just _how_ she could have made her father disappear, if she had been helping. It was probably the wrong thing to do, but… He did not want to have to arrest her. Not yet. 

Kristoph's eye was on him, and Klavier quickly rearranged his features back into something morose. "I can't believe that this was my first trial." 

"Ah, there will be many more trials, Klavier," said Kristoph. "Forget this one. I, personally, am glad I had a chance to leave it." 

"Hm," said Klavier. "Herr Wright was not so lucky." 

"No," said Kristoph. "It seems not. Though I am sad to have been proven right." 

"The man is scum," said Klavier. "Don't feel sorry for him. He got what he deserved." 

"You think so?" said Kristoph. "I find myself wondering, to be honest." 

"What do you mean?" Klavier demanded. "He presented forged evidence! In a _court_! There's no way he can pass that off as- as having amnesia, or something." 

"Still," said Kristoph, shaking his head. "It's hard for me to believe someone like Mr. Wright would do such a thing. He's so respected in these parts." 

"You weren't saying that last night, brother." 

"I admit, I was a little emotional yesterday evening." 

Klavier shook his head now. Kristoph Gavin, emotional. "You were quite calm. Calmer than I was." 

"We will face one another in your next trial, Klavier. Of this I have no doubt." 

"It doesn't matter," said Klavier, turning to fiddle with his bangs, trying to make it look like he hadn't just gotten very happy. "I can't see how you could even think of giving Wright the benefit of the doubt. You are kind to a fault." 

"You're probably right," Kristoph said wryly. "Anyway, Phoenix Wright is secondary now. His hearing isn't until next Tuesday." 

"If I may ask, what then is primary?" 

Kristoph gestured to his desk, which was uncharacteristically messy. "Drawing up the paperwork." 

"For what, exactly?" 

Kristoph chuckled. "Why, the legal guardianship of Trucy Gramarye." 

"The- the _what_? Kristoph, what are you-" 

"Apollo told me of her situation." Kristoph's tone became grave. "Did he tell you how they found out they were siblings?" 

"No- how?" 

"It was the young Miss Gramarye. She was- lonely, perhaps, is the best word for it. I believe her father and his partner pushed her quite hard to move into her mother's role. She secretly looked up her family records. I do not know this for sure, but I suspect she was looking for someone else to take her in." 

Klavier stared at Kristoph, then down at his tea. 

"And of course, she found Apollo. He was quite- _alarmed_ \- when she showed up at the office one day. That was when he was still an intern here. But they quickly grew to be inseparable." 

"I see. That's…" Klavier wasn't sure what to say. Touching, perhaps? Yet sad. 

"So, _mein bruder_ , do not feel guilty for putting away her father. He did not deserve the title." 

Klavier gave a strained laugh. Of course Kristoph knew exactly what was bothering him. His brother was being so kind. It almost made him worry a little. Kristoph _was_ and exceedingly gentle and good-hearted man, he knew this. But his brother also had his cold periods, especially when Klavier fell out of his favor. It was always like this- he longed for his brother's warmth, but for every good conversation they had he wondered how soon Kristoph would turn away from him again. 

"Something else on your mind?" asked Kristoph. 

"Only that I wonder- are you really thinking of becoming that girl's father in Herr Gramarye's place?" 

Kristoph laughed. "No, not her father. I don't expect her to call me 'Daddy' or anything. But I can be her legal guardian until she comes of age. All she really needs is a place to stay- and Apollo." 

"I guess that's all I needed," said Klavier, lightly. 

"A place to stay, and Apollo?" said Kristoph, eyebrows rising, and Klavier frowned at him. 

"You know what I meant." 

Kristoph gave him a vague smile. "Your tea is getting cold." 

Klavier took a belated sip. 

"I did not see this coming," he said. 

"Yes… neither did I." For a moment Kristoph looked almost wan. "But it is the right thing to do." 

"And Herr F- Herr Justice supports this?" 

"Apollo is… confused, right now. He does not know what to think. He was quite shaken by Mr. Wright's dismissal. He admired him so." 

Klavier would have rolled his eyes had it not conflicted his image. Yes, Apollo had made that quite clear two days ago. He would certainly be crushed to see the man toppled. 

"Where is he, anyway?" He half-wanted to poke fun at him. The other half, he supposed, sort of wanted to see him again. Or at least him and Trucy together. 

"I believe he is napping on the couch. I had him up and running errands for me all day, and he only just heard the news when he came back." 

"Ah," said Klavier, recalling something. "Actually-" 

"You must be careful not to wake him when you leave. I want to be certain he gets his rest." 

"Hmph," said Klavier, amused. "Playing the role of the father already, Kristoph? If you adopt Fräulein Trucy, does that mean Apollo will become… my nephew?" 

Kristoph's mouth thinned. "No, Klavier. I will be her _guardian_ , not her father." 

"Too bad though, ja? I think I would make an excellent uncle. Certainly I will be good to Fräulein Trucy. I will take her to my concerts. She looks as if she might be a Gavinners fan in the making-" 

"Klavier." Kristoph laid one hand on the table. "Stop taking things so lightly." 

Klavier let his gaze drop and fidgeted in his brother's uncomfortable chair. 

"In any case, you won't have much of an opportunity to become close with Trucy, I'm afraid. I'm planning on training her to become my assistant once Apollo is gone." 

"Oh," said Klavier. "You do not think she would- prefer to stay a magician?" 

Kristoph laughed. "Stay in the profession her father forced on her? Hardly. I am sure she will be grateful for the change." 

Klavier tried picturing Trucy in some stuffy lawyer's outfit, looking through legal papers. He _could_ envision it, along with the bored look on her face. No. She was a child of magic. It didn't matter what sort of negative things had happened along the way. 

"Whatever you say, _bruder_." Poor Fräulein, it looked as though her future would be dull and dreary. Klavier could sympathize, having grown up under Kristoph's thumb. 

"Finish your tea, Klavier," said Kristoph. "It was a rather expensive blend. I don't want it to go to waste." 

Klavier took another sip, then a gulp. The tea was barely lukewarm anymore. He tried not to pull a face at the taste. Tea had never much been his drink of choice. 

"Don't just bolt it down like that," chided Kristoph. "Really, Klavier, where do you get this from?" 

Daryan Crescend, Klavier thought, though there was no need for him to say it aloud. Kristoph was thinking the same thing, from the way his lip had curled slightly with distaste. 

"I think I'll be going," Klavier said, setting the mug back on the table. It was only half-finished, but there was only so much he was willing to put up with. "Give my regards and sympathies to Herr Justice and Fräulein Trucy, ja?" 

"Certainly," said Kristoph, eyes flicking down to the mug. 

"Then I'm off," said Klavier, and somewhat gratefully went out the door.  

The lobby beyond Kristoph's office was dark, likely for the purposes of Apollo's nap. Klavier squinted as he shut the door behind him, cutting off all but a thin line of light. Was that dark lump on the couch Apollo? He was surprised at how small the attorney looked. 

He still sort of wanted to wake him up, just to pick on him, but it was better to let sleeping foreheads lie, he supposed. Just as Kristoph had requested. With one last lingering look at the couch, Klavier strolled out the door. 

Or tried to. Except when his hand touched the handle, an arm shot out of the shadows and grabbed his shoulder. 

" _Shh_ ," said Apollo, motioning frantically for him to keep quiet, and Klavier managed to keep his shout down to a strangled sound of alarm. 

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, heart hammering. "Are you a child?" 

"Shut up a minute," said Apollo. In the dim light Klavier could only make out the faint gleam of his eyes. "Please. I need you to-" 

He hesitated. Klavier swallowed. The anxiety he could feel coming off of him was palpable, and catching. 

"What, what is it?" 

"Meet me. Tomorrow." Apollo stepped back, and the last words were so soft that Klavier barely caught them.  

"I need your help."


	4. Chapter 4

As requested, Klavier met Apollo the next day. He had been quite surprised at his choice of meeting place, and now he watched, bemused, as Apollo fidgeted and stared all around at the guitars hanging up on the wall of his office. 

"Not everything is unpacked yet," said Klavier, feeling the need to defend himself against Apollo's laser-precision stare. At his words it snapped back onto him. 

"This… is your office?" 

"What were you expecting? My office certainly couldn't be as prim and proper as my brother's," said Klavier, trying to keep his tone light. 

"Is that a _massage chair_?" 

"I like to get my work done in comfort, Herr Forehead." 

"I see." Apollo looked extremely dubious. Klavier's hackles were rising. 

"Did you come here to ask for my help, or did you just want to sneak a peek at my things?" 

Apollo drew in a sharp breath. "I-" 

Klavier waited, but Apollo shut his mouth again, and glanced behind himself, as if he thought someone would come bursting through the door at any moment. 

"What are you so jumpy about? It's the middle of the day. Everyone is either in the field or having lunch." Klavier idly fiddled with the switch on one of his monitors. "Are you worried about being seen, Herr Forehead? Have you committed a crime?" 

He had meant it as a joke, so he was quite surprised when Apollo's face went completely pale. 

"I… don't know," he said. 

Now Klavier glanced at the door. Apollo's anxiety was so infectious. 

"Sit down, then," he said. "Tell me what happened. Then I can arrest you, if necessary." 

Apollo shot him that _look_ , but took a seat, perching nervously on one of Klavier's backless chairs. 

"I don't really have anyone else to go to," he said. "I'm a new attorney, and I don't know anyone in the system yet… You seemed like a decent person, even if…" 

"Even if I am a prosecutor?" Klavier filled in. Apollo said nothing. 

"I'll be honest," said Klavier, after a moment. "I can't see you doing anything illegal, Herr Forehead. I am quite confused as to why you are here." 

"Yes," said Apollo. "I am, too. But Trucy liked you, so I didn't think…" He stopped himself, mouth pulling to one side, as if it was something he hadn't meant to say. 

"Ah, the Fräulein," said Klavier, eagerly latching onto the subject. "How is she doing, after what happened yesterday? And where is she- working in the park?" 

"I don't know," said Apollo. "I don't know either of those things. I can't go see her." There was a certain intensity in his eyes, though they were not focused on Klavier. "Because of your brother." 

"Kristoph?" Klavier furrowed his brow. "This isn't about the adoption, is it?" 

"The- what?" 

Klavier clapped his hands as a thought came to him. "Of course! You're worried about my brother adopting your sister, aren't you? I can assure you, Kristoph-" He hesitated, for Apollo was looking at him with an expression of pure horror on his face. 

"He's- he's _adopting Trucy_?" 

"You didn't know?" said Klavier. 

Apollo just shook his head mutely. 

Klavier was suddenly feeling worried. Had that been something he wasn't supposed to reveal? Had Kristoph been planning to- to surprise Apollo, or something? 

"You're sure about this?" Apollo's fists were clenching and unclenching. 

"Fairly sure," said Klavier, staring at him. "What are you so upset about? He just wants to be her guardian, since her father is g-" 

"He's not dead. He's hiding somewhere," Apollo said sharply. "Don't talk like he's dead." 

"Sorry." 

"I don't want Mr. Gavin to be Trucy's guardian. That's not a good idea. I don't want her having any contact with that office." 

"Hence, you are not contacting her?" 

"That's right." 

"Poor Fräulein. She must think you don't care." 

Apollo glared at him. "It doesn't matter. I want her to stay safe." 

The sheer intensity of his gaze made Klavier want to shiver. "You are worried about her being found… perhaps, by someone connected with the law?" 

"You- what are you implying, exactly?" 

"Yesterday it did strike me as odd, how she suddenly turned up," said Klavier. "The bailiff claims he chased Herr Gramarye into the lobby but found only the Fräulein. And even that bailiff would have a hard time mistaking Fräulein Trucy for a man as large as her father." 

"Your point?" said Apollo, folding his arms. "You can't blame his mistake on her." 

"No, and I would never dream of accusing your sister of something like that. She is far too sweet to aid a criminal." Klavier was gratified when Apollo's eyes gave the tiniest flicker. "Still, that would explain why you came to me…" 

"That's not why," Apollo said bluntly. "Trucy has nothing to do with this, really. Only now I'm twice as sure that Mr. Gavin is trying to get in contact with her somehow." 

"That would be obvious, since he's trying to adopt her. Why so much concern over my brother? I can understand if you have doubts about the adoption, but…" 

"Why is the adoption happening, Prosecutor? You think your brother would be so charitable out of the blue? He just wants access to her." 

Klavier frowned. "You're not seriously suggesting-" 

"No, not like that! He wants access to her so he has leverage." 

Klavier raised his eyebrows. "You mean, leverage over…" 

"Me." Apollo's face was grim. "He wants to keep my mouth shut about something." 

He looked so utterly serious that Klavier couldn't stop the laugh from bursting out of him. "You're saying my brother wants to use the Fräulein as- as some kind of hostage? To stop you from talking? What could you possibly know that he would have to be worried about?" 

"I don't know- not exactly. But I think I have an idea, and that's what worries me." 

"So- let me see if I understand this- my brother wants to stop you from talking about information that you don't even know." 

"Yes!" Apollo scowled. "You think I'm joking?" 

"No, and that is what concerns me," said Klavier, leaning forward slightly. "Tell me, what brought on these suspicions?" 

"Yesterday's trial," said Apollo, face going slack and unhappy even at the thought. "When Mr. Wright presented that false evidence." 

"Yes…?" 

"Well, I had gone to the lobby earlier-" 

"Ah!" Klavier snapped his fingers. "You _did_! I saw you there, looking for Trucy!" 

"You saw me?" Apollo rubbed at his wrist around his bracelet. "When?" 

"When the audience was asked to leave the trial. You were there with them, weren't you? Against my brother's wishes. I should tell on you." 

"I wasn't there against his wishes," said Apollo. "He _told_ me to go there." 

"Ha. And what did he _tell_ you to go there for?" 

"To give a piece of evidence to Mr. Wright." 

Klavier paused. 

"What kind of evidence?" 

"I didn't see it. It was in a manila envelope. It was light- couldn't have been more than a couple sheets of paper." 

Klavier drummed his fingers on top of one of his oversized speakers. "Herr Forehead. Are you saying that you think my brother sent you over with the forged evidence to give to Herr Wright?" 

"Well…" 

"You think my brother and Herr Wright worked together on this?" 

"No." Apollo's voice was quite firm. "I don't think Mr. Wright knew about it at all." 

"Oh, I see." Klavier laughed lowly. "Not heroic, upstanding Herr Wright, ja? So what kind of idiot would present evidence in court someone had just _handed_ him outside?" 

Apollo went a little pink. "I was the one who gave it to him. I told him- I told him it was something he could use to help Zak Gramarye. Because Mr. Gavin told me he didn't want his name mentioned." 

"Of course he didn't." Klavier shook his head. "Assuming I believe you- which, quite honestly, I am not sure about- you did not look in that envelope, did you?" 

"No…" 

"So you have no proof that the forged diary page was within. My brother is known for his kindness. He probably truly wanted to help Herr Wright." 

"I would've thought that too," said Apollo. "Honestly, I would never suspect Mr. Gavin of anything like this normally. But when I got back to the office, after the case, he started asking me about Trucy right away. 'Where is she?' 'Where did she go after her father disappeared?' And I, uhh…" Apollo flushed. "Anyway, I said I didn't know. And then he said he was worried about her, and that he wanted to keep an eye on her." 

"I fail to see how this incriminates him in any way," said Klavier, tapping his foot. 

"Your brother- he's got a habit of tensing up when he's not being honest, or when he's nervous. His hand went all tense when he said he wanted to keep an eye on Trucy. I couldn't stop thinking about it. That's when I started wondering what was in that envelope. And I got to thinking about Mr. Wright's face when you accused him of forgery. He was really shocked. He wasn't faking it…" 

Klavier snorted. "As good a judge of character you may think you are, Herr Forehead, this is a trifle ridiculous. You want to accuse my brother over his hand tensing? I do not think that will fly in a court of law, ja?" 

"It sounds silly, I guess, but it's true, M- Prosecutor Gavin. He was hiding something. And look, I'm the only one who could connect that evidence back to him, aren't I?" 

"His hand tensing? I've never seen Kristoph so much as break a sweat, and I've-" 

"You don't know him like I do, all right?!" Apollo burst out. "He's-" He hesitated, seeing Klavier's expression. 

"Herr Forehead," said Klavier. "I don't know how you think you're going to get away with these claims, but I must tell you that coming into my office and insulting my brother like this-" _claiming to know him better than me_ "-was a very foolish move. I am certainly willing to call the police over to arrest you and investigate your claim that you presented Herr Wright with forged evidence. That, that intrigues me. But if you dare to implicate my brother-" 

"I knew I shouldn't have come here," Apollo said bitterly, standing and cutting him off. "You're blind. You're too desperate to impress him to even see what he's really-" 

"Don't speak of him that way!" Klavier took a step forward and suddenly he and Apollo were very close, face to face. "My brother is doing _everything_ for you and your sister! And you repay him with this? He is trying to give her a better life!" 

Apollo's voice was low and heated, and his fading bruise seemed to stand out from his bloodless skin. "And are you _jealous_ of that, Prosecutor Gavin?" 

Klavier stared at him and felt angrier than he had felt in a very long time. He was almost frightened of the feeling- his carefully careless image had been stripped away and he was raw, shivering, under the intensity of Apollo's gaze. He found he could think of no words to say, and after a moment, Apollo's eyes softened. 

"I didn't mean-" 

Someone knocked loudly on the door and Klavier leaned back and Apollo sprang away like he'd been burned. 

Klavier glanced at him- he was avoiding his gaze now, embarrassed- and cleared his throat. 

"Yes?" 

The door swung open, and a woman walked into Klavier's office, eyebrows raised, an unmarked black plastic bag in one hand. 

"What's all the yelling about?" 

Klavier smiled, put his hands in his pockets, and leaned forward disarmingly. 

"Were you worried, Fräulein Detective?" 

Ema Skye frowned, dug one hand deep into the bag, and crinkled with dislike as she spoke. "Just wondering if I was going to have to escort someone off the premises." 

"No need," said Klavier, as her hand started whizzing between the bag and her mouth with practiced efficiency. 

"Yes, I was just leaving," said Apollo, a trace of heat still in his tone. He took a step forward. 

"Ah, wait, Herr Forehead," said Klavier, and Ema choked. "I still have a few questions for you. Don't leave just yet." 

"What?" Apollo scowled, especially as Ema sneaked a glance at him, eyes hovering on the top of his head, and made a strangled sound. 

"Fräulein Detective, maybe you should stick around as well. You might be interested in what he has to say." 

Ema coughed, pounding below her throat. "No, thanks. I'm heading out to do my work right now. I actually came by to tell you that there's going to be a new case, and they'll probably put you on it. Lucky you." 

Klavier raised his eyebrows. "Lucky me?" 

"Yeah, lucky you. There's no defendant for this case." Her mouth tilted up in an unpleasant smile. It was off-putting. Klavier had met her while she was finishing the investigation of the Gramarye case, and for some reason she had not seemed to like him very much. For a Fräulein, this was unusual. 

"Have they not found a suspect yet? Then why assign a prosecutor?" 

"Oh, they've got a suspect." Her voice was smug. "You know him pretty well by now. You were there for his vanishing act this morning." 

"You don't mean Zak Gramarye?!" 

That had been Apollo, and Ema jumped and stared at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. 

"Uhh- yes?" 

"Who's the victim?" said Klavier, and perhaps his nonchalant air had slipped a little, because she gave him a wary glance. 

"Should he-" 

"Never mind Herr Forehead, he's a related party. Who did Zak Gramarye kill this time?" 

Ema swallowed, still looking dubious.  

"Well- if you say so. Death was by atroquinine poisoning about half an hour after the trial. Not sure how he ingested it yet. They discovered the body because they'd already been moving in on the hotel room. Mr. Gramarye just got there first." 

"You don't mean…" 

"Yes," said Ema, nodding. "It looks like Valant Gramarye signed his own death warrant when he agreed to testify against his partner."


	5. Chapter 5

"You should stay outside," said Klavier, halting their progress with a raised hand. The three of them had reached the dilapidated hotel in a squad car, and there were already police swarming over the area. 

"No," said Apollo. Klavier looked at him and elected not to say anything else. 

"I can't believe this," grumbled Ema, flashing her badge at the police officer who was cordoning off the doorway. "Who's this kid, again?" 

"He's with me," said Klavier, flashing his own smile. That would have to be sufficient for now; explaining Apollo was too dicey, and he didn't have the heart to demand that he stay away. Apollo had already moved to bear down on the nearest police officer. 

"Have you seen a young girl around? Blue hat, cape?" 

The officer looked confused. "Is this some kind of joke? This is a murder scene, kid! Move along!" 

Klavier stepped in before Apollo punched the man. "As you may or may not have realized, Officer, this is the murder scene of a magician. He was also staying with a young girl, the daughter of the suspect in this case. Now tell me, _have_ you seen her?" 

The officer stiffened, still looking a bit bewildered, and with a soft sigh Klavier fished out his badge. 

"Does this satisfy you, Herr?" 

"Sorry, sir! My mistake!" The man was sweating, poor thing. "We've seen no girls, sir. The hotel was mostly deserted except for staff, and no one younger than thirty among them, sir!" 

"Thank you," said Klavier, tucking his badge away. Apollo was very pale, and he turned away, one hand over his mouth. 

"This is a good thing," said Klavier, patting his shoulder. "She was not around when the murder occurred. I am sure she is safe somewhere else." 

Apollo said nothing, only shrugged off his hand. 

"Care to let me in on this?" said Ema, who'd been watching them. "A hint, maybe, on what you two think you're doing?" 

"I will fill you in on the details once I inspect the crime scene, Fräulein Detective," said Klavier, waving an easy hand her way. "Time is vital in a murder case, ja?" 

Ema said nothing, just put another handful of whatever was in that bag into her mouth so she could chew meaningfully. 

They entered the building as a unit and went up one flight of stairs- Klavier still remembered where the hotel room was, and he was getting the most eerie sense of déjà vu as they approached the open door. Valant Gramarye was not there to greet them this time. Instead, there was a zipping sound, as the officer kneeling on the floor closed the last few inches of the body bag. 

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Klavier asked Apollo in a low voice, but Apollo was completely ignoring him now, standing with his arms crossed in the doorway, eyes darting all around the room, absorbing details. He was in Klavier's way to get in, actually, and Klavier had to push him slightly before he would move. 

Ema came in too, with a curt nod to the officer, who was standing up. "Prosecutor's here. He's the purple one. Let's give them some space." 

The officer nodded and left, not batting an eye as Ema flicked crumbs off her wrist onto the crime scene carpet. Apollo's brow wrinkled at the sight. 

"Room was as you can see it. When we got here Mr. Gramarye was still alive, but already feeling the effects of the atroquinine. Which, as I'm sure you know, is a neurotoxin." 

Klavier knew. He'd been thinking about writing a song about the stuff. It was legendary. 

"He was having a seizure when our man came in to check the room. The officer tried to calm him down, but in a minute, he was dead anyway. No idea what the vehicle was, but he must have ingested it somehow." 

"And why have you already started moving the body?" 

"Oh, we took photos. The lab wants him. You don't see many cases with this stuff." Ema licked her fingers thoughtfully. "We had our people check his hands, pockets, everything. He wasn't carrying anything on him that he could've put into his mouth. Atroquinine takes fifteen minutes to affect the body, so we're thinking the evidence disappeared with the murderer." 

"Perhaps Herr Zak offered Herr Valant a drink to show there were no hard feelings," Klavier suggested. "And then left before his friend had any idea what he had done." 

"Brutal," said Ema, nodding. "And _annoying_. What are we supposed to do without the murder weapon?" 

"I have a question," said Apollo, and he knelt down to pick something up- a box of latex gloves the forensics team had left behind. "Why are you assuming that Zak is the killer?" 

"Who else can you think of that has a motive for killing this magician?" asked Ema. "And right after the trial where he sold his best friend out for murder? Come on. It's not rocket science." 

"But there's no evidence that Zak was the one who did it," Apollo persisted. Klavier had to hand it to him, he certainly _talked_ like a defense attorney. 

"Think of it this way," Klavier said. "The absence of evidence is proof in and of itself. Look at the door- what do you see? No evidence of forced entry. And the room- while quite messy- well, I can confirm that it was already this messy. They don't seem to have struggled. It suggests that he knew his killer." 

"But there are other reasons he could have opened the door- room service-" 

"No one had come up to this room," Ema chimed in. "Mr. Gramarye had only just gotten back from the trial when the poisoning must have occurred. Also, we had hotel staff confirm that they saw another person entering the premises around that time." 

"Someone saw him? Who?" Klavier's fingers were drumming on his hip- he had a witness! 

"Er- okay, it wasn't really _someone_. Here." Ema flipped open a folder and handed him a photograph. It was black and white, and somewhat blurry, but Klavier could make out what looked like the hotel entrance and the dim silhouette of someone slinking towards the door. On the person's head there was a clearly visible outline of a top hat. 

"That's a still frame from the hotel security camera," said Ema. "As you can see, the timestamp works out perfectly for the poisoning."

"Anyone can wear a top hat and pretend to be a Gramarye," Apollo said, but his voice sounded a little hollow. "Zak Gramarye is a jerk, but he's the kind of jerk who will punch you, not poison you. If he wanted to get revenge on Valant, he would have done it with his fists." 

"People can always surprise you, Herr Forehead," said Klavier, shrugging. "The man already killed once." 

Apollo glared at him, snapping on a pair of gloves. "Actually, you never even proved that, Gavin." 

Klavier felt that itch of annoyance coming back. "The man relied on forged evidence and ran when the ploy failed. Do I need proof?" 

"Of course you need proof!" 

"Ah, but that's not how things work," Klavier said, smiling. " _You_ need proof, Herr Attorney, to call someone 'innocent.' Lots and lots of proof. But if I go into the office tomorrow and say, 'Zak Gramarye is the killer, let's prosecute him,' no one will ask me any questions. If I can provide a plausible explanation, the man is as good as convicted." 

"That's unfair!" 

"That's how our system of justice works, Herr Forehead. If you don't like it, try to change it." 

Apollo narrowed his eyes and made a frustrated sound, and suddenly whirled around and picked something up off the bed. 

Ema looked horrified, and something inside her bag _crunched_ under her fingers. "Hey! Don't touch my crime scene!"  

"I put on gloves, so it's fine," Apollo said brazenly, twirling what he had in his hand- a cane. Klavier recognized it, as it had been spun repeatedly in his face the day he had interrogated Valant Gramarye. 

"Put that down," Ema said angrily, and started marching over towards him. Apollo quickly grabbed the top of the cane, digging his fingernails in underneath the wood, and wrenched it off. 

"Wha-" 

"It's a _trick_ cane, I've seen him use it," Apollo said quickly, seeing the mounting anger in her eyes. "It's supposed to come apart." 

"Showing off your tricks, Herr Forehead? Perhaps you should have been a magician instead of an attorney." 

Apollo ignored the jibe and stuck his fingers into the shaft of the cane. With a grimace he pulled something out- something that was, oddly enough, bright purple. 

"What is that, one of those magic scarves?" Ema asked dubiously, one hand hovering near the entrance to her bag. 

"It's a letter," Apollo said, voice suddenly eager. "It was all rolled up…" 

Before he could unroll it, Klavier reached over and snatched it from him. 

"Hey!!" 

"I am the prosecutor, remember?" Klavier said, smoothing the envelope. There was no writing on the front, but the back looked like it had already been opened. 

"You're not wearing any gloves! Your fingerprints are getting all over it!" Apollo's voice sounded outraged, and he made a lunge for the letter, but Klavier was able to easily deflect him by planting one hand on his forehead. 

"I am not a suspect, ja? They can just ignore my fingerprints." 

"Hmmph!" said Ema, furiously shuttling food into her mouth again. "You're a piece of work!" 

Klavier shrugged and pushed Apollo's face away so he could use both hands to open the letter. There were two pages inside. The handwriting on one looked terribly familiar, too. But that was not what immediately caught Klavier's eye. 

On the bottom of the first page was a tiny drop of blood. Just one. 

"You will want to take these to the lab, Fräulein Detective. FInd out whose blood this is, and we can identify our killer." Klavier's eyes skimmed the page. "I will be happy to bet on it being Zak Gramarye, Herr Forehead." 

"What do you mean?" 

"See for yourself," said Klavier, handing him both papers. Apollo took them with a frown, and Ema bent down slightly to peer over his shoulder and read. 

"Dear Valant," Apollo said aloud, "I have enclosed the paper given to me by our mentor, Magnifi, before he died. It wills the rights of his magic to you. I believe he made the right choice, after what I did to him, and I regret that this is our last meeting. I hope you can forgive me. Signed, your- your partner-" 

Apollo's hands were shaking, and he looked at the second page. 

"It's the real diary page," Ema murmured. "The one that was missing! It says everything goes to Valant!" 

"Ah, I see," said Klavier, snapping his fingers to an imaginary beat. Everything was falling so neatly into place. "That was his final, parting gift to his partner, ja? If Zak couldn't have the rights… no one could." 

"That doesn't make sense," said Apollo, shaking his head fervently. "There is someone else who's better suited to inherit the Gramarye magic than Valant." 

"Of course," said Klavier. "Young Fräulein Trucy, correct? And of course, that was Zak Gramarye's goal. Without a partner, the magic rights fall to him- and from him, where should they fall?" 

"Who's Trucy?" said Ema, looking bewildered. "What're you talking about?" 

"You think Zak killed Valant so the magic could go to Trucy?" Apollo was shaking his head, again and again. "No. I just can't see that happening." 

"Which reminds me," said Klavier. "We must find her quickly. I'd like to ask her a few questions myself." 

That got him a furious look. "You're not interrogating Trucy!"

"Settle those ruffled feathers, Herr Forehead. I only said a few questions. She may know more than you think. Also, thank you very much for finding this evidence for me. I think you would make a good assistant if you ever feel like joining the prosecutor's office." 

Now Apollo's look was positively venomous. Ema pulled the pages out of his slackening fingers. 

"I'll take these to the lab, so you two can have some time to figure out whether or not you're going to tell me- the _detective_ \- what the hell is going on." 

"Oh, for- Trucy's my sister. Zak Gramarye's daughter." 

Ema's eyebrows jumped up a few feet. "Your sister? You're related to Zak Gramarye?" 

"No!" Apollo's face kept getting redder as he got madder. If he hadn't known real concern lurked behind that flush, Klavier wouldn't have minded adding more fuel to the fire. As it was, he spoke soothingly. 

"I will organize some people to go looking for her. I am sure we'll find her quickly. She is probably just playing somewhere, and lost track of time." 

"She's not a child!" Apollo shouted, then yelped as if he'd been stung. 

"What? What _is_ it?" said Ema, one hand on her face, as fascinated as Klavier was by the spectacle Apollo was making of himself. 

"My cell phone," said Apollo, suddenly sheepish, and fished it out of his pocket. 

"Did you have it on vibrate?" Klavier laughed. Apollo shot him a look and looked at the front. All the blood that had risen to his face suddenly drained away. He put it to his ear. 

"Mr. Gavin?" 

He listened for a moment, his tenseness infecting the room. Aside from a rustle of plastic from Ema, all was silent. Klavier could very faintly hear the sound of his brother's calm voice, made tinny by the speaker in Apollo's outdated phone. 

"I see. Thank you," said Apollo. "I'll be there soon." He hung up. 

"Well…?" 

Apollo put the phone back in his pocket, and started pulling off his gloves. In a measured way, he spoke. 

"That was Mr. Gavin. He says he has Trucy."


	6. Chapter 6

Klavier had nearly forgotten all about the conversation he and Apollo had had in his office in all the excitement of the new murder case, but now, as Ema pulled the squad car up to his brother's office, it tickled at the back of his mind. Particularly as he watched Apollo. However wild his accusations against Kristoph had been, he certainly seemed to believe them. 

As soon as Ema shifted gear into park, Apollo bolted to open his door, nicking the sedan next to them. 

"Careful, please," said Klavier, rather testy, as he'd somehow been the one stuck sitting in the back seat. Ema had to reach around and open his door, and she did it with a smirk. 

"We're here, o glimmerous one." 

"Thank you," said Klavier, making the best of a bad situation, and stepped out like a rock star. He _was_ a rock star, after all. 

"Prosecutor Gavin," said Apollo, who already had one hand on the door handle, "maybe you shouldn't-" 

"I was just thinking about visiting my brother again," Klavier said. "Ah, Fräulein Detective, we appreciate the ride. You may go back to your duties now." 

Ema scoffed. "You think you can dismiss me like I'm some kind of servant? I'll wait here for you. Actually, there's a shop down the street I was planning on visiting anyway." 

Klavier gave a sigh and tilted his face heavenward, a lament to the sky. Ema snorted. 

"Your friend already went inside. He's an attorney, isn't he?" 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Nothing, aside from the badge very conspicuously pinned to his lapel."

Klavier laughed. "Does that concern you?" 

"It's a bit _illegal_ having the attorney around while you investigate the crime scene, isn't it?" 

"Herr Forehead is not the attorney on this case," said Klavier. "I doubt he could be. He is, after all, too related." 

"Still-" 

Klavier shrugged and entered the office, cutting her off. He was in no mood for a lecture from the likes of her. 

For once, the lights in the lobby were on, though the only person there at the moment seemed to be his brother, standing with his back facing Klavier. 

"Kristoph," said Klavier, and his brother turned to see him, faint surprise on his face. 

"Klavier?" 

Klavier took a step forward, but Kristoph halted him with a raised hand and stepped aside. Through the half-open door to the office, Klavier glimpsed Apollo's red suit. His arms were around Trucy, who was sniffling softly with her head buried in his shoulder. 

"She came here looking for him early this morning," said Kristoph. "We were going to wait for him to show up at the normal time, but then we heard about the second murder on the news… the poor thing was quite distraught." 

Klavier nodded. Her grandfather, her father, and now Valant… He was willing to bet Trucy was very glad to have Apollo just then. He didn't seem like the type to vanish or die very easily. 

"So," said Kristoph, stepping a little closer. "Any particular reason why the two of you came here together?" 

Klavier hesitated, as Kristoph smiled at him, arms crossed loosely. 

"He was looking for Trucy. We happened to meet at the crime scene, and when he got the call I had the detective drive us here. He, too, has been distressed." 

"I would expect," said Kristoph. "Though, he has been acting strangely since the trial. Did he say anything to you?" 

"Well…" Klavier resisted the urge to play with his ring. Kristoph was doing that thing where he loomed, just slightly, without even seeming to move. "I did mention the adoption to him. He didn't-" 

"Take it well? Yes, I was afraid of that." Kristoph sighed, and drew back a little; Klavier felt like a heavy pressure had just lifted from him. "He is very stubborn about his independence. When he first began working here I actually offered to take _him_ in, but he refused." 

"Take him in? What do you mean, didn't he have-" 

"He grew up in the foster system," said Kristoph. "I don't know many details, but he has worked very hard to get to this point. I thought I might be able to make it easier for him." 

"That is awfully… charitable of you." 

"It was only a formality. I could have opened certain channels for him, if he would have let me, but he refused. He is a very honest and straightforward person." 

The words sounded like compliments, but Klavier detected something familiar in Kristoph's smile. It was that particular smile he liked to use when Klavier talked about the Gavinners. 

"Mr. Gavin?" 

Apollo was pushing the door open with one hand, Trucy still tucked in his other arm. Klavier was a little stunned to see how downcast her small face was. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she still managed a weak smile when she saw him. 

"Thanks for bringing Polly, Mr. Prosecutor." 

"I might make a business of transporting him," Klavier said lightly. Kristoph laughed. 

"Have you given any thought to what I told you, Justice?" 

"Yes," said Apollo. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gavin, but we just can't accept that from you. It's… very kind, but…" 

"I understand," said Kristoph. "Though I do wish you were less stubborn about it, especially since you now have your sister to care for…" 

Trucy looked up at Apollo, for his arm had tightened slightly around her shoulders. 

"We'll manage," he said firmly. 

"Of course," said Kristoph. There was that same smile again. "You'll be taking her to your apartment tonight, then?" 

"Yes." 

"Any help at all, Justice, I would be happy to…" 

"Thank you, Mr. Gavin. I appreciate it." Apollo steered Trucy towards the door. "Excuse us…" 

"Why don't you see them out, Klavier?" said Kristoph, nodding at him.  

It was a less-than-subtle dismissal, but Klavier didn't take it to heart. Kristoph would be sulking, as was his way when somebody didn't do something he wanted, and he preferred to do that alone. He'd probably fuss with his hair or paint his nails, if Klavier knew him at all. His brother's idiosyncrasies had never ceased to amuse him.

He caught up with Apollo and Trucy outside, still in their own little huddle, with their heads bent together. He noticed suddenly that Trucy was not wearing her top hat. It made her look strangely vulnerable. 

Contrary to what she'd said earlier, Ema Skye was still in the area. She was leaning against the squad car, phone at her ear, speaking in a low voice. 

Klavier decided not to touch that, and drifted closer to the siblings.

"But did he give you anything?" Apollo was saying, then jerked upright as Klavier approached. 

"Am I interrupting?" he asked mildly. 

"No," said Apollo, a little loudly, and Trucy giggled. 

"Apollo! You're terrible at this keeping-secrets thing!" 

"Secrets?" Klavier put on an eager face. "What sort of secrets, Fräulein? Exciting ones?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said coyly. 

"Oh, but I would." He laughed at the expression on Apollo's face. "But your brother is no fun at all, it seems." 

"Oh, Polly's all right," said Trucy. "You've just got to get at him in the right way. It took me a week to crack him when we first met. Then he got in his first fight with my daddy, and everything started going great!" 

Klavier glanced at Apollo, who was at this point staring down at the sidewalk. 

"I'm so happy that I'll get to stay with him," Trucy said, leaning forward like she was confiding in him. "We'll have sleeping bags and hot chocolate, and we'll stay up late telling stories, and-" 

"This isn't a sleepover, Trucy!" 

"And I'll cook for you, Apollo, since I bet you don't even know how to do that yet!" 

"Of course I know how- and what do you mean, _yet_?" 

"It's going to be so fun! It'll be much better than staying with-" Her grin faltered for a fraction of a second. "-Uncle Valant." 

Apollo's brow wrinkled. "Trucy…" 

"Oh, and your apartment better not _stink_ , Apollo. I know you're still single, but-" 

" _Still_? I'm twenty-two! And no, my apartment does not _stink_ ," Apollo grumped. "And you're going to bed early, after you do your homework, and no TV. I need to practice my vocal training without any distractions." 

"Aww, Polly!" 

"You're terrible, Herr Forehead," Klavier said, chiming in. "That's no way to treat a Fräulein." 

"She's not a Fräulein, she's my sister," Apollo said irately. "And she's only fifteen, so-" 

"That is why you should let her do anything she wants," said Klavier. "If you want to be a good big brother, Herr Forehead. After all, I was raised that way, and look how successful I turned out." He winked at Trucy, who burst into giggles. 

"If you get bored staying with your brother, I am still willing to take you out for lunch," Klavier continued. "Or we could even make it dinner." 

"Can you please," Apollo began, over Trucy's hysterical giggles, " _not_ hit on my sister." 

"'Hit on'?" Klavier tilted his head, affecting an expression of bewilderment. "This must be some American phrase I am not familiar with. All I mean to suggest is that Fräulein is a lovely young lady who should not be stuck with a no-TV-lights-out-early big brother." 

"You describe him perfectly," said Trucy, nodding, still blushing a little. She blushed as easily as her brother, Klavier noticed with some amusement, for Apollo was getting red again. With brotherly wrath. 

"Excuse me." 

That had been Ema, who was off the phone and standing by her car door, arms folded. Her expression was rather serious. 

"Is your name Apollo Justice?" she asked, looking at Apollo. 

"Yes," he said slowly. 

"Who's this?" Trucy asked, popping out from under his arm. 

"She's the detective. Working for Mr. Purple Prosecutor over here." 

Klavier and Ema both started to speak at once and stopped. Klavier coughed. 

"Carry on, Fräulein Detective." 

But Ema seemed to be hesitating now, shifting from foot to foot and staring at Trucy and Apollo. 

"Are you two brother and sister?" 

"Yes," said Apollo, and Trucy added, "Well, half." 

Ema bit her lip. 

"You both going home together tonight?" 

"Yes…" Apollo suddenly looked nervous again. "Is there something…?" 

"Well, you might want to, you know, look for somewhere else," said Ema, all in a rush. "Just for tonight." 

"What-" 

"I just heard on the phone. You're wanted for questioning," she said flatly. "And it probably won't lead to anything, but-" 

"Questioning for what?" That was Trucy, frowning, her sudden seriousness making her look very much like Apollo. "What did he do?" 

"I didn't do anything," Apollo said, but his face told another story. Klavier thought back to their conversation earlier in the day. Was it really true that…? 

"Mr. Wright identified you," said Ema. "As someone involved in the forgery. Look, I don't know if I should have told you that, but it's out there now. You can do with it what you want. I should get back to headquarters." She fumbled for the door handle. 

"Ms. Skye, wait!" Apollo ran across the sidewalk to get the door for her. "Thank you. Why did you-?" 

"Because siblings shouldn't get split up," said Ema, staring at the dashboard, and slammed the car door shut. 

Apollo got back up on the sidewalk, and they all watched her drive away.

"What was that all about, Polly?" 

Apollo sighed and made like he was going to run his fingers through his hair, arresting the motion at the last minute. "I'm not sure. But it looks like we might have to take Mr. Gavin up on his offer after all. At least for tonight."  

Trucy said nothing to this, but her face got a little pinched. Klavier cleared his throat. 

"I have a suggestion." 

"Yeah, no thanks, Gavin, I don't want you wining and dining my little sister-" 

"I was merely going to suggest that the two of you book a hotel room," said Klavier. 

"You think the police won't be checking for my name on-" 

"Which is why you may use _my_ name," said Klavier, smiling grandly. "And my card as well, since I doubt you will be able to afford a hotel nice enough to suit the Fräulein." 

"Absolutely not!" Apollo looked mad enough to take a swing at him. "You think you can just give us all that for free and not expect-" 

"You keep interrupting me before I finish," Klavier chided. "I will not be doing it for free. In exchange, the two of you will give me all the information you know about the cases involving Zak and Valant Gramarye." 

Apollo glared at him. "You slimy, stuck-up excuse for a prosecutor. I'm not going to be bought off like that." 

Klavier shrugged. "Or you could stay at my brother's home," he said. 

Apollo said nothing. Trucy turned to him and stage-whispered, "Can we please go to the fancy hotel, _please_?" 

"It doesn't much matter what you tell me anyway," said Klavier. "The accused is missing, remember? I doubt I will get the chance to prosecute him. I'm just curious, that's all." 

"Yeah, right," muttered Apollo, but he was weakening. "Well- I won't answer every question, and neither will Trucy, not if they're dangerous." 

"Of course. And I promise not to repeat anything to my brother," Klavier lied. 

Apollo hesitated, and blew out his cheeks. " _And_ I'll pay you back. In money." 

"Whatever you say, Herr Forehead." The way he talked, it was like he thought the stuff was mythical. 

"Come on, Apollo, say yes," Trucy urged, a gleam in her eye. "I want room service!" 

"You may not get room service," said Apollo. "You may not get pay-per-view. Same rules as at home." 

" _Aww_! Then you can't do your voice exercises, either!" 

"I take it we have a deal?" Klavier's foot was tapping, less with impatience than with eagerness. He had caught them well. 

Apollo sighed. "A seventeen-year-old booking me a hotel room… all right."  

Trucy pumped her fist victoriously. 

"Good," said Klavier briskly. "Then let's walk back to my office, and _talk_."

 


	7. Chapter 7

Klavier settled the siblings into his office, even allowing Trucy to watch some cable television on one of his monitors. Apollo had scowled, but even he was mollified when Klavier told him he was stepping outside to order takeout for the three of them, and had quickly whipped out a tired-looking red wallet and pressed a twenty into his hand. 

Klavier looked at it now, folded neatly between two of his fingers, as he dialed the phone a second time. How much did Kristoph pay the poor fellow? There hadn't seemed to be much else in there. And now Apollo would be supporting Trucy too. Even if she did have some talent as a magician, it would be tight for both of them. Apollo really should have taken Kristoph up on his offer; it was madness to turn that kind of generosity down. 

The phone rang twice, and then Kristoph's voice was in his ear. 

"Klavier." 

"I was just thinking about how silly Herr Forehead is for turning you down," said Klavier.  

"Agreed, but you hardly had to call just to inform me of that." 

"Ha. I called to inform you that I have beaten you; that is to say, I have managed to get Herr Justice and Fräulein Trucy to stay under my care."

There was a pause. "Klavier…?" 

"Apparently there are police looking for Justice, did you know that?" 

"No," said Kristoph. There was a clink, as if he'd set something down on his desk. "Under what grounds?" 

"Apparently Herr Wright fingered him as an accomplice, or something, in the forgery." 

Kristoph chuckled dryly. "Now you're making things up, Klavier. Wright and Justice have never even met, and you're saying-?" 

"He did admire him a great deal," said Klavier, trying not to let his relief show. Gauging from his response, it didn't sound like Kristoph had anything to do with the matter- but of course he didn't. "They may have met before in the past." 

"Hardly seems likely to me. So, you are hiding him from the police? Are you sure that's wise?" 

"I simply invited him to stay at one of my fine suites for the experience; I had no idea the police were looking for him, bruder." 

Real amusement colored Kristoph's chuckle this time. "Very clever. Though I doubt they'll give up looking for him so easily. There are plenty of people on the force who believe in Phoenix Wright enough to want to find a scapegoat." 

"Foolish for them," remarked Klavier. "In any case I only want enough time to question him and Fräulein Trucy about the murder. Then the police can handle whether he was involved or not." 

"And how did Apollo take the accusation- I assume he knows?" 

"Yes, of course. He seemed…" Klavier hesitated, fiddling with Apollo's money. He'd lied to Kristoph earlier about speaking with Apollo that morning on some fool suspicion, but now he regretted it. Kristoph did not tolerate deception. 

"How did he seem, Klavier?" 

Best to lay it all out. "Well, to be honest with you, _mein bruder_ , he told me that you had given him something to hand to Herr Wright. And he seemed to think it was the forged evidence." 

On the other end of the line, Kristoph let out a soft breath. "He said that to you?" 

"I didn't _believe_ him, of course, but-" 

"No, of course- I am just… shocked. It is not like him to say such a thing." 

"Ja, he does not seem like the type, does he? Shall I turn him in for you right now?" 

"Ah- no. No, Klavier, no need to get so protective on my behalf. But if you could, could you ask Justice to come over to my office later this evening? I'd like to talk to him, see if I can smooth things out." 

"If you say so," said Klavier, shrugging, forgetting he was on the phone. "You are always too forgiving about these types of things." 

"That is why I have you, isn't it? You will always tell me if someone is saying unkind things about me." Kristoph laughed softly. "Well, the Gramaryes have certainly thrown a wrench in our plans, haven't they?" 

"They'll catch Herr Gramarye soon, Kristoph- even if it's these police, he can't possibly have gone too far. When that happens, we can finish the trial Herr Wright interrupted together." 

"It may be sooner than that," said Kristoph, voice low. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I spoke to the detective earlier about Valant Gramarye's murder. Apparently, Zak's fingerprints were not on that letter." 

"Well, obviously he was wearing gloves, the man is not completely stupid." 

"He was not," said Kristoph, "but it seems he was also not a part of this. There is another set of fingerprints aside from Valant's on the envelope." 

"Whose?" 

"They don't know. They haven't got them on file. But they're looking into possible suspects now." 

"Hmm, but Zak seemed to have the best motive…" 

"He wasn't the only one," Kristoph said. "If you think about it, I think you'll come up with another suspect." 

"If you say so, bruder." Klavier's mind was already flicking through the list of people connected to the case, but it was short, and he could think of no one else who would have a probable reason to want Valant Gramarye dead. "But at this point, it would be better if we did not share any more theories, ja?" 

"Of course. Don't forget to give Justice my message. And keep an eye on Trucy- we don't want her vanishing again." 

"Yes, and I will make sure he goes tonight," Klavier promised, and hung up. 

"That took you a while," said Apollo, when he reentered the office. 

"They were rather rude to me because of my accent," said Klavier, tensing despite of himself, but Apollo was looking at the television with Trucy. It appeared she'd found some sort of documentary on Borgnian politics and was sitting in Klavier's massage chair, hugging her knees, eyes rapt on the screen. 

"Can't we change it?" Apollo complained, leaning down and prodding her in the shoulder. "You should check if-" 

"We're not watching your silly sci-fi shows, Polly," she said, brushing him off. "This is interesting. You should watch it with me." 

"You hate history in school!" 

"Of course I do! It's _school_." She rolled her eyes, the picture of a rebellious teenager, then caught Klavier's eye and grinned. 

"When is the food getting here, Mr. Purple Prosecutor?" 

"Fifteen minutes, Fräulein, though I hope that was an overestimate. I'm hungry too." 

"Me too," said Apollo absently, apparently distracted by the commercial for hair gel that had just popped up. 

"I also got a call from my brother, Herr Forehead." 

"Mhm- wait, what?" Apollo swung around to stare at him, and Trucy's eyes darted his way. "What did you say to him?" 

Klavier hooked his thumbs though his belt and shrugged. "I saw no reason to lie to him; I said you were with me. It's not as if he would be upset by that." 

"I'm not worried about him being upset," Apollo said. "I thought you would figure out why I wouldn't want him knowing where we are." He glanced at Trucy, but she was apparently absorbed in the program, which had come back on. 

"Ah, yes, your little accusation," Klavier said. "Which reminds me, I'd like to start questioning you, if the Fräulein is sufficiently entertained there." 

"Sure. All right," Apollo said, and let go of the back of the chair to step closer. "Want to, umm, step outside?" 

"Come on, Polly, you don't have any secrets from me," Trucy piped up, without taking her eyes off the screen. "You two can talk in here." 

"She's right, and we won't be talking about anything dangerous, like you requested," Klavier said easily. "Have a seat, Herr Justice." 

Apollo furrowed his brow, then reluctantly took the backless chair, while Klavier leaned against a speaker. 

"I hate this chair," he said. 

"That's nice," said Klavier. "Oh, before I forget, Kristoph asked me to tell you to drop by the office later this evening. Some sort of work-related matter." 

"Did he say what time?" Apollo asked, but there was a knock at the door, and Klavier excused himself to take the noodles from the very fast deliveryman, who got tipped with all twenty of Apollo's dollars for his trouble.

It took the three of them some time to resettle with styrofoam boxes of noodles balanced in their laps or in Klavier's case, on a towel carefully placed on top of his expensive speaker. Trucy cheered loudly at the television, which had somehow gotten changed to a hockey game in the confusion. 

Klavier took his chopsticks out of their paper container and applied himself to his noodles with gusto, only slowing to realize Apollo was staring at him. 

"What is it, Herr Forehead?" 

Apollo shrugged. "You eat like a normal seventeen-year-old. Guess I wasn't expecting that." 

Klavier tapped the ends of his chopsticks together. "You have yet to define what a 'normal seventeen-year-old' is, Forehead." 

"Well, noodles aren't really part of the rock star scene, are they?" 

"Of course they are. What do you think we have to eat between gigs, and before late-night shows? It is not all glamour and Fräuleins all the time. It is like having a blue-collar job, except with much more beautiful people, and with a great deal more alcohol." 

"I think blue-collar workers would be pretty offended to hear you say that," said Apollo around a mouthful of chicken. "Also, aren't you a little young to be drinking, _prosecutor_?" 

"Did I say I drank? No. I merely said that there was a great deal of alcohol. The Gavinners are a police-inspired band. We obey the law and rock out safely." 

Apollo snorted. "A law-abiding rock band? Isn't that a little boring? I thought rock was all about rebellion." 

"In this day and age, you might as well be a rebel if you bother to obey the law." 

"Did Mr. Gavin give you that line?" Apollo was half-laughing, but it died down quickly when he looked at Klavier's face. 

"We should probably begin the questioning, if you want to have time to meet my brother."  

"Yeah, I- I guess so." 

Klavier laid his chopsticks down on the towel. "Had you ever met Herr Wright before this case?" 

Apollo blinked a little at his bluntness. "No, never. I first saw him when I handed him the envelope." 

"Are you certain?" 

"Why are you pressing so hard on this? Yes, I'm sure. I would remember it if I'd met him before." Apollo rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, eyes darting away. 

"I'm trying to figure out why Herr Wright identified you so quickly- by name, too. You didn't give him your name, did you?" 

"No, Mr. Gavin told me not to say anything except for what the envelope was, and anyway he wouldn't want to know my name." His cheeks pinked a little. 

Klavier sighed. "Then I do not understand where the police came up with the name. All he would have had was your description- which, granted, is quite unmistakeable, but-" 

"Oh!" said Apollo, sitting bolt upright. Then: "Oh." He slumped slightly. 

"Fill me in to your epiphany, please?" 

"I think I might know how Mr. Wright recognized me," Apollo mumbled. "Don't tell Mr. Gavin this, all right?" 

"Sure," said Klavier, and Apollo looked at him and narrowed his eyes. 

"Don't say a word to him- I mean it." His fingers brushed his bracelet. 

"You are only making me more curious, Herr Forehead." 

Apollo curled his fingers and sighed. "Well- I told you it took me a while to apply to Mr. Gavin's office, right? That was because I applied somewhere else… first." 

Klavier snapped his fingers. "Of _course_. Herr Wright must still have had the application on file, ja? That makes sense." He paused long enough to spare Apollo a pitying look- it must have been a crushing blow for him, having his application rejected by his idol. Though, applying to Wright  & Co. before Gavin and Associates had been a fairly foolish move in its own right. Especially since Apollo had interned under Gavin before then.  

"At least he remembered my face from my headshot," Apollo said glumly. "Even it it was to accuse me of forgery." 

So Apollo had not known Phoenix Wright personally before the trial- that much seemed true, unless Apollo was much better at lying than he looked. Which, granted, he might be, because Klavier was certain Kristoph had not handed him anything, forged or no, to give to Wright. 

Adding those things up meant Apollo had prepared the evidence _himself_. Had Kristoph suspected? Was that why he'd told Klavier to go after Wright- to protect Apollo? He looked at the crimson-suited attorney with fresh dislike. Truly despicable. 

"If I didn't have to worry about- you know-" Apollo was saying, jerking his head towards the massage chair. "I'd just turn myself in. It would be simpler, and I could explain everything. But…" 

"Of course," said Klavier, internally disgusted. Apparently he hadn't cared enough about Trucy to risk her safety trying to score his beloved Wright a win. 

Apollo looked at him directly, catching his gaze, which had been wandering. "Prosecutor Gavin?" 

"Y- _ja_?" 

"I never thanked you for doing this for us. Thank you. This is… admirably kind of you." 

The directness of his voice and eyes made Klavier uncomfortable, and he turned away, leaning back against the speaker, and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "I would be very upset if the Fräulein was left out in the cold." 

And that was entirely true. Whatever the crimes of the elder, the younger was an innocent, blameless creature. 

"Yes," said Apollo, mouth turning down slightly. "But bear in mind that just because you helped us out doesn't mean you can date my sister." 

Klavier laughed incredulously. "Do I look like some kind of cradle-robber to you, Forehead?" 

"You're only two years older than her!" 

"Ah, then it is alright to date her in that case." 

"No!" 

"Calm down," said Klavier, amused in spite of himself at how put-out Apollo was beginning to look. Trucy's eyes were peeping over the back of the chair, crinkled with mirth. 

"I have no plans to, shall we say, romance your sister, Herr Forehead. There are plenty of other Fräuleins out there for me to pursue, anyway. Like the Fräulein Detective, for example. She looks about my type."

" _Ema_?" Apollo said, looking appalled. Klavier wondered exactly when he'd gotten on first-name terms with her. "She must be ten years older than you!" 

"Ouch, Forehead, I do not think she would be pleased to hear you say that. And what does an age difference matter?" 

"Uh, it matters a little to the law, doesn't it? And to be honest with you, I don't even think she likes you very much." 

"Let me tell you something about the Fräuleins, my friend." Klavier leaned forward with a smile. "When they act like they don't like you _that_ much… it is usually because they do." 

"Or maybe they act like they don't like you because they actually _don't_ \- has that thought ever crossed your mind?" 

Klavier leaned back with a dismissive shrug. The regular folk could not understand. He could believe quite easily that he already had more experience than Apollo in that area in spite of his five-year head start. 

"I will not pursue the Fräulein Detective anyway. I do not wish to hinder our working relationship." 

"How nice of you," said Apollo. "Stopping yourself from wooing my sister or that detective. Must be a big sacrifice." 

"Hardly," said Klavier. "And what about you, Herr Forehead? I am certain a man of your talent has the Fräuleins lined up around the block. Got a- is this what you call it- 'girlfriend'?" 

"I don't have time for girlfriends. I'm working on my career." 

The response came out of Apollo so smooth and practiced that Klavier was immediately certain it wasn't true. No time for girlfriends? No, Apollo didn't want a girlfriend at all, otherwise he would have risen to Klavier's jab. That was an interesting tidbit. Now, did Herr Forehead's tastes run another way, or was he like Kristoph, destined not to share another person's warmth? Perhaps that was why his brother was so taken with him. 

"Anyway, I thought we were supposed to be discussing the case, not my love life." 

Klavier shrugged. "I believe I have most of the information I wanted to know from you. Anyway, you should make sure to stop by my brother's office before it gets dark." 

"Oh." Apollo sat up slightly, as if the mere thought of Kristoph Gavin made him want to straighten up. "He didn't say what he wanted me to go by for, did he?" 

"Something work-related, was it? I do not remember," said Klavier. 

Apollo glanced at him strangely, his fingers drifting towards his wrist. 

"What is it?" 

"Nnn- no, it's nothing. I'll go." He stood up and gestured with his box of chicken. "Do you want this?" 

"Put it on the desk and I will examine it later, ja?" 

Apollo forced a short laugh and did as he was told. He was clearly nervous about seeing Kristoph. Klavier could have told him what he was in for. What had Kristoph said on the phone- that it was _not like him to say such a thing_? He'd probably be angrier about that than about Apollo's accusation. Kristoph so hated it when people didn't act the way he expected them to. When Klavier had told him about the Gavinners, his brother had played mind games with him for months, trying to get him to quit. 

"Apollo?" 

That had been Trucy, sitting with her knees in the seat of the chair, looking at them beseechingly over the back. "Can I come with you?" 

"Nope. Stay here with the prosecutor. I'll be back in a couple hours, hopefully." 

"But you said I shouldn't go there alone. You shouldn't either." 

Apollo glanced nervously at Kristoph before replying. "I work there, Trucy. I don't want the man to fire me or something." 

"So take me with you, then." 

"Come on, I'll be back soon. Maybe the prosecutor will let you play one of his guitars." 

Klavier coughed at the idea. Trucy looked over at him in a way that was startling. She was not smiling. Apparently her gaze could be as unnerving as her brother's when she wanted it to be. 

"Can't you go with him, Prosecutor Gavin?" 

" _Nein_ , Fräulein, we have yet to conduct our interview. My brother will not bite yours, I promise." 

She made no response to this, and merely looked unhappy. Apollo looked unhappy too, but he was at the door. 

"I'll be back soon, I promise," he said. "Don't let him ask you too many stupid questions." 

Her gaze swung back to fix on Klavier again, and he wondered whom would be interrogating whom now. Particularly when as soon as the door shut behind Apollo she stood and went to sit in his recently vacated chair. 

"You have something to tell me, Fräulein?" 

She merely looked at him a moment, swinging her legs like a child. 

"Prosecutor Gavin…?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm scared." 

Klavier sighed. "Herr Forehead may think that my brother is menacing, but-" 

"Not of _him_. I'm scared because they want to arrest Apollo." 

"Oh," said Klavier. "Ehm- well, they don't want to arrest him, they want to take him in for questioning." 

"But if they do that, Apollo won't lie to them. And they'll think he was involved in it and arrest him, no matter what Mr. Gavin did or didn't do. I don't want him to have his badge taken away, Prosecutor Gavin. He- he hasn't even gotten to defend anybody yet!" 

"Now," said Klavier, scrambling for a response, for she looked like she was near tears. "Now Fr- now Trucy, that is not true. He's spent all this time defending you, hasn't he? And even when he disliked Herr Gramarye so much, he still thought he was innocent, and he was willing to defend that. I think he is a very good attorney." 

Aside from the whole forging evidence thing, anyway. 

"You're lying," said Trucy, eyes locking with his. "You don't think that at all. Because Apollo told you he thought your brother was involved, right? That's why you don't trust him." 

Klavier could say nothing for a moment, stunned by her perceptiveness. Finally he said, "My brother is a good man. As an attorney, he'd helped a lot of people. Does anyone like to hear people accuse their siblings of things they didn't do?" 

"Apollo isn't lying!" 

"And how exactly can you be so sure, hmm? Were you there? Herr Forehead has some kind of agenda in this. I don't know what, but I intend to find-" 

"Polly's got no agenda, Mr. Prosecutor. You should know that by now. I- when grandpa first started getting sick, the fighting between Daddy and Uncle Valant got so bad, I went and looked up my mother's side of the family, just in case there was…" She swallowed. "I found Apollo. And now Grandpa and Daddy and Uncle Valant are-" She choked back a sob, and put her hands over her face. Klavier was frozen.  

"I don't want Apollo taken away from me, too!" 

"Trucy," Klavier said. "No one is going to take your brother away from you, I promise. He's perfectly safe." 

She looked at him through her fingers. "Then, Prosecutor Gavin, can you go get him for me? And bring him back?" 

Ah. Again he was caught off-guard. So this was her game- and he'd fallen neatly into her trap. How shrewd she was! And yet, as he watched her small shoulders shaking, he understood her stakes. 

"Fräulein-" 

"I'll answer every question you ask me if you do," she insisted, cutting him off. "I'll tell you- I'll tell you all about the person who really murdered Uncle Valant." 

Klavier felt himself go slack with surprise. "You know who-?" 

"Please, Prosecutor Gavin. Please go get him for me!" 

"Fräulein. Calm down." He stepped forward and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I understand, ja? Of course I love my big brother just as much. I will go check on Herr Justice for you. It doesn't matter what you do or do not tell me when I come back." 

"Really?" she said, and gave him a watery smile. "You're such a nice person." 

He ruffled her hair, smiling a little, unsure of what to say.  

"Shall I go with you?" 

"Nein, nein, I will go. You stay here and finish eating. If anything should delay us, I will call my office phone, ja?" 

"Okay," she said. "Thanks, Prosecutor Gavin." 

Klavier smiled, left the office, and locked the door tightly behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Kristoph's lobby was dark again. 

Through the window Klavier could see a band of light coming from under the office door within. Why did he always have the lights off in the lobby? It did not project the most welcoming atmosphere to potential clients. 

It was a strange time to think such thoughts. Klavier shook his head and steadied his hand as he reached for the door handle. His brother would be most displeased with him interrupting his session with Apollo, he could sense it. Perhaps it would be better if Klavier stayed outside and waited until they had finished. The chill in the night air was what dissuaded him of that. He was dressed amazingly for the crowd, but poorly for the weather. He tugged on the handle. 

The door was locked. 

Frowning, Klavier withdrew his hand. Why was it locked? Had Kristoph been closing up his office, or something, by the time Apollo came by? But why had he locked it from the inside? 

He would think, later, that that was the moment when he should have started feeling anxious, but in truth at the time he did not spare the mystery more than a passing thought. It didn't matter if it was locked. Klavier had a key, given to him by Kristoph quite a long time ago, before he'd gone away to Germany, for when Kristoph wanted him to run errands and act as a secretary. It had not been a particularly amiable time for the two of them, and Klavier could not ever even remember using the key before. 

He quietly unlocked the door and went inside his brother's lobby. The air was warm and stagnant inside by contrast. Klavier felt it press down on all the areas where his skin was exposed. He wondered if he should lock the door behind himself again, then shrugged to no one. Was there anyone out there who'd even want to break into an attorney's office? 

The band of light beckoned. He stepped forward, and began to hear the calm murmur of his brother's voice, saying indistinct words. It made him relax. Apparently Kristoph was not so upset with Apollo after all. Lucky him. 

Then Apollo's harsh voice cut across his brother's. 

"Did you think I was stupid, Mr. Gavin? Did you think I wouldn't notice everything that happened around that trial?" 

In the following silence, Klavier heard the _clink_ of a glass being set down on a table. 

"I did not think you were stupid," came his brother's voice, suddenly clear and cold. "I did believe that you were naive, and straightforward, and trusted my decisions. As I trusted you. Was I wrong?" 

"You set Mr. Wright up," Apollo said angrily. "You planned everything that happened. You- you planned to get Trucy's father the death sentence! He's an innocent man!" 

"Hardly," said Kristoph. "Though that, in the end, is a matter for the courts to decide." 

"You know he's innocent because we told you! You _know_!" 

"However good your eyes are, Justice, they are not immune to the sway of your own bias. The same goes for your sister." Kristoph paused. "Is she with my brother now?" 

Apollo was silent for a long moment. Klavier could almost feel his anxiety growing. He himself was frozen outside the door, eavesdropping like a child, feeling something coiling and coiling in his stomach. 

"She won't be with him for long," said Apollo. His voice had changed- it was halting now. 

"You sound as if you have come to a new conclusion." 

"Of course I did. I should've noticed it earlier! How could he have known right away about the false evidence? How could you have known about what I told him? He's been working with you this whole time! I'm such an idiot!" 

Kristoph laughed. "Interesting conspiracy theories, Justice." 

"He looks up to you, doesn't he? You as the defense, him as the prosecutor… If you asked him to lose a case for you, would he? Was that your plan all along?" 

"Of course not. You are simply wild tonight, Justice. You must calm down. Have a drink." 

"Why did you call me back here tonight? What did you want from me?!" 

"Absolutely nothing. I just wanted to hear your thoughts on the forgery, since you seem to have given my brother a modified version of events." 

"I'm completely sure of it now. You forged that evidence." 

"That is where our stories do not match up," said Kristoph. "By all accounts, it looks as if the one who forged the evidence is _you_ , Apollo. I don't know how Wright found out your name so quickly-" 

"He's talented in a way you can't even-" 

"Exceedingly lucky, I think," Kristoph said smoothly. "Either way, he's right. Your fingerprints will be on that envelope. Not mine." 

"If they take me in, I'll tell them who sent me. I won't lie. Even if they take away my badge, I won't cover for you." 

"Do you think it will be hard, supporting young Trucy without a job?" Kristoph mused. "Which reminds me: without your badge, and with me- presumably- in jail, who will defend her in the upcoming trial?" 

"Wh-what trial? What are you-" 

"I heard that it was you who found that interesting envelope at the crime scene, Justice. Do you know whose fingerprints were on the outside? Not Zak Gramarye's. And do you know who inherits Magnifi's act once both Zak and Valant are gone?" 

Apollo said nothing, but Klavier heard a sharp intake of breath. 

"Naturally I do not believe Trucy is capable of such heinous acts," said Kristoph. "I had been planning to protect her myself. But I certainly can't defend someone if I've been accused of forging evidence." 

"Mr. Gavin," said Apollo. "Can I clarify this? Are you… threatening me?" 

"Of course I am not threatening you." 

"Because what you just said… to me, it sounded like a threat." 

"I am not attempting to threaten you," said Kristoph. "I am not that kind of person, Justice. I am, however, stating facts. Facts that you should consider carefully before taking any actions." 

"Trucy can't be involved in all this- there's no way- her fingerprints can't be on there!" 

"Look at me, Justice," said Kristoph. His voice had dropped its pleasant edge, and Klavier felt it bearing down on him. He put a hand to his forehead, eyes wide.  

"Mr. Gavin…" Apollo's voice was weak. 

"I said look at me." A pause. "Now tell me… am I lying to you?" 

"N-no…" 

"Trucy's fingerprints are on that envelope. And without me to defend her, she will be convicted of the murder of Valant Gramarye. No, Justice, do not look away. I want you to tell me if I am lying to you. Phoenix Wright conspired with you to forge evidence. You agreed because you look up to him. Zak Gramarye was and is guilty." 

There was a brief silence, and Klavier heard the glug of liquid being poured into a glass. 

"For you," said Kristoph. "I would like you to taste it. So tell me- the things I said just now. Were any of them lies, Justice?" 

Apollo was silent. 

"Because if there was just one lie- just one- the whole thing will collapse like a house of cards. Your career- your sister- the things you have worked for- if there is just _one lie_ , _all of it will be ruined_." 

Apollo started to say something, and Kristoph cut across him. "No. Think carefully before you answer, Justice. Think about what really matters to you. Were there any lies?" 

Klavier was immobile, bound by shock and awful curiosity, one hand on the door- all he had to do was use his fingertips to push it open- but he could not. All he could do was stand there and strain his ears to hear what Apollo's answer would be. And after a time, it came, weak and hopeless. 

"There were… no lies." 

"Not a one?" 

"No, Mr. Gavin." 

"I see," said Kristoph, a sardonic edge coming to his voice. "Then have a drink, Justice." 

This is a nightmare, was Klavier's only coherent thought. He needed to leave. He was _not supposed_ to be hearing this. 

"Wha-" 

That had been Apollo, but he was cut off by his own choking. Glass shattered, and there was a loud thump. 

Klavier burst into the room. 

Kristoph was standing by his desk, wineglass in his hand and wine bottle grazing his elbow. Apollo was crouched on the floor, coughing, next to a shattered wineglass and a stained rug. 

"What happened?" cried Klavier. "What did he do to you?!" 

They both turned to stare at him with such surprise in their eyes that it was almost comic, especially on Kristoph, who so rarely showed such emotions. Apollo actually fell back into a sitting position, one hand over his mouth as he tried to get control of himself. 

It was Kristoph who answered. 

"I believe some of Justice's wine went down the wrong way, as they say it. It seems he is not used to spirits of this caliber." 

Klavier's hammering heart seemed to slow, and he took a breath. Apollo had stopped choking and was giving him that familiar stare, heightened and intensified now with bewilderment and fear. 

His brother's cool voice brushed him like fingers on his spine. 

"I am curious- what did you _think_ I was doing to Justice, Klavier?" 

Klavier turned slowly, feeling a sort of familiar feeling, one he had not felt since childhood, when his parents had left most of his care up to his older brother. He had done _so much_ to displease Kristoph then, and he always knew it when that happened, even when he couldn't predict what would upset his brother beforehand- he always knew it afterward. 

What Kristoph was really asking was how long he'd been standing outside that door. 

Apollo coughed, and croaked. "Prosecutor-" 

He should lie, act like he hadn't heard anything, and get out. But he'd already given himself away, and Apollo's eyes were burning into his back, and he couldn't lie. 

"To me, Kristoph," Klavier said, "it sounded as if you were threatening Herr Forehead." 

There was a look in Kristoph's eye, one that made Klavier want to quail and beg to take it back, _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll do better next time_ \- but he had stood up to his brother when he had formed the Gavinners, stood up against that cold gaze once, and he had to do it again now, for the sake of everything he had worked for to become a prosecutor. 

Kristoph's gaze flickered, and he gave a wry smile, acknowledging.  

"Have a seat, Klavier, and I will explain things to you."

Hesitantly Klavier obeyed, taking the chair across from where Apollo had been sitting, with his back to Kristoph's desk. Apollo was slowly getting up, still staring at him. 

"You sit too, Justice," said Kristoph. "I'd like to speak to both of you together." 

Apollo's eyes flicked to Kristoph, then back to Klavier. He sat. From behind him Klavier heard Kristoph pouring another glass of wine. 

"Why are you here," Apollo hissed, though clenched teeth, glaring at him. 

"The Fräulein was getting worried," Klavier replied, very softly. A wrinkle appeared between Apollo's eyebrows. 

"Justice," came Kristoph's voice, shocking them both still. "Be careful when you get up. I'm not sure how far the broken glass spread when it shattered." 

"Sorry about your carpet, Mr. Gavin." 

Kristoph didn't seem to register the sarcasm in Apollo's tone. "It is a pity. I am not sure if the stain will come out, but it was an accident, of course." 

Klavier was twitching, antsy. The chair he had ended up taking was Kristoph's office chair, wheeled and swiveling, and he struggled not to make it creak. 

"Would you like a glass of wine, Klavier?" 

Klavier swiveled around to face his brother to tell him he was too young to drink, and at that same moment Apollo leapt up and lunged at him, the wheeled chair bumping over the carpet. There was a swift, harsh motion and an awful thud of flesh, and the chair toppled and Klavier was suddenly tangled up in Apollo on the floor. 

" _Verdammt_ ," said Kristoph, and before Klavier could process anything else he had to get over the shock of hearing his brother swear.

Apollo grunted, and tried to move from where he was lying mostly on top of Klavier, holding his shoulder with one hand. In the space between Apollo's neck and collarbone Klavier could stare upwards and see Kristoph looming over both of them, holding a wine bottle by the neck. 

With all of his training and practice Klavier could trace the intended trajectory of that bottle in his mind, and it made no sense. 

"Mr. Gavin," Apollo said, voice somewhat pained. "You- attacked- Klavier. I'm going to call… the police. Klavier… my cell phone. Pocket." 

Kristoph raised the wine bottle, and both of them flinched, but it was only to wipe the neck of it with his shirt, and lay it down on its side on the table. 

"Pardon me," he said. "The alcohol seems to have gotten to me." 

Then he calmly walked around them and left the room. Klavier heard the outside door open and close a moment later. 

The sudden silence was thick and heavy. Klavier's chest bumped Apollo's as he tried to breathe again. 

"Damn," said Apollo, and and struggled to sit up, grabbing at the carpet fibers for purchase. "He left. He knows… pointless. Ugh, ow." He grimaced, rubbing at his shoulder.  

Klavier sat up too, but he seemed to be shaking, and he couldn't quite keep himself up and shuddered forward against Apollo. 

"Ow- hey- ow!" Apollo grabbed at him, trying to push him away. "What're you doing- get off!" 

Somehow Klavier's arms were around his waist, his fingers digging into his back, and he could not stop shaking, trembling hard with his face in Apollo's stomach. Apollo stilled. 

"He's gone," he repeated. "Mr. Gavin left, Klavier. He's not going to come back. You can calm down." 

"He-" 

Klavier found that the words were coming from him, shuddering their way out of his throat. 

"He- he attacked- me. He was going to-" If only he was not a prosecutor, he would not know so intimately what a blow to the head with such force could do to a man- "He was going to _kill_ me." 

Apollo put a hand on his back. 

"He's gone, I promise. You're safe." 

"My brother-" 

"Is _gone_." 

Klavier clutched at Apollo's back, feeling him flinch as his fingers dug in tighter. He couldn't let go. Everything- image, identity, everything- seemed to have fallen away, leaving him raw and exposed. 

"Come on, let go. We need to get out of here." 

"You said he was gone-" 

"He _is_ gone. But we need to see Trucy, okay? We need to check on her. If that bastard-" 

"Don't say that, don't say that about my brother, don't call him that-" 

Apollo grabbed his shoulders and forcefully shoved him away. 

"You just said it, Klavier! He tried to kill you! He tried to murder his own brother right here, not thirty seconds ago! That, in my book, warrants a little name-calling!" 

Klavier couldn't look at him. His gaze was far too much, right now. He shook. 

"Come on," said Apollo, leaning closer again, and Klavier drew away. "Look, I'm sorry. But we can't sit here and think about it. We have to go. We have to go see if Trucy's okay, all right? We have to go make sure he's not going after her _right now_." 

Klavier's head jerked up to meet his eyes. 

"My bike- I took my bike here. It'll be faster than him on foot." 

Apollo frowned. "Can you drive like this?" 

Klavier stood, clenching his fists, which still trembled. "Let's go." 

Apollo frowned at him, but stood awkwardly, cradling his right arm, grimacing with every movement. Klavier stared at his right shoulder, which slumped lower than the other. 

"Is that where he…" 

"S'all right, nothing's broken," said Apollo, though he was still making a face as he began to stagger towards the door. "He mostly hit muscle. It's gonna be bruised. Whole arm is still tingling." 

Klavier did not follow him for a moment, caught up in thinking- the back of a shoulder was awfully close to the back of a head, and Apollo had jumped on him a split second before the blow came down. 

"Herr Justice," he said, "I thought you thought I was… working with my brother." 

Apollo turned back to face him, clearly annoyed. "How long were you listening, anyway, before you decided to barge in like that? Yes, I did, but clearly that's not true, because he just tried to-" He saw Klavier's expression change, but he continued on doggedly- " _kill you_ , yes, or at least hurt you pretty badly. Wouldn't expect that unless he wanted to keep your mouth shut…" 

Apollo was impressively callous, Klavier thought dully, the way he doled those words out. Keep his mouth shut… Kristoph had been willing to blackmail Apollo, but as far as Klavier went- was he just so much trash to be discarded? 

He realized Apollo had hobbled back over and was shaking him with his good hand. 

"You clearly can't drive," he was saying, face pinched with worry and frustration. "Should I call Detective Skye to pick us up, or-" 

Klavier shouldered him aside and walked to the door. 

"I can drive," he insisted. "We don't have time to call someone." He didn't want to call the police on his brother. 

"Doesn't much matter," Apollo was muttering. "So stupid- murder charges are so easy to pick up, but intent to murder doesn't mean _squat_. You saw him wipe his prints, right? It's his word against ours, he's counting on that-" 

Klavier held the door so he could stumble through, clutching his shoulder and muttering low and continuos. How much wine had Kristoph given him, anyway? It seemed Herr Forehead was not so good at holding his liquor. But at least it was probably helping to dull the pain for him. 

Apollo stopped short at the sight of Klavier's purple motorcycle by the curb. 

"You shouldn't-" 

Klavier hopped astride and held out a hand. 

"You will have to hold tightly, Herr Forehead- you only have one arm to do it with."

Apollo swayed a bit and then clambered onto the back of the seat best he could, gripping Klavier tightly around the waist with his good arm, all sense of propriety and stiffness lost in the urgency of the moment. Klavier had a brief fit of worry- he only had one helmet, and a helmetless passenger was against the law- but he had a realistic idea of what Apollo's response would be if he voiced his concern. He would have to hope that Herr Forehead's stiffly gelled hair would serve good enough protection if he went flying off. He revved the motorcycle. 

"Hold on," he reminded Apollo, whose warm damp breath was tickling his neck, and then with one last look up and down the sidewalk, as if he expected Kristoph to be standing nearby, arms crossed, watching and scorning- Klavier drove off and away from his brother's office.


	9. Chapter 9

It was dark by the time they got back to the prosecutors' office block, Apollo miraculously having stayed on the motorcycle despite the fact that they were going at the top speed Klavier felt the law would warrant. In the parking garage he abandoned his hog to list against its kickstand and joined Apollo where he was jabbing at the elevator keys. Neither of them had spoken. Apollo's right arm was still hanging limp, and his face was red and bitten with wind. Klavier wondered how _he_ looked. It could not be good. He could feel his shattered image still hanging around him like shreds of old skin. He thought of the way Kristoph's eyes had looked and wanted to vomit. 

They reached Klavier's floor and stepped in perfect synchronization towards the door, their hands grasping for the handle at the same time. Apollo jumped back when their skin contacted. 

"It's locked," he said, gripping his shoulder. The ride seemed to have driven off whatever alcoholic buzz he'd had. 

"I locked it when I left," Klavier confirmed, rather relieved. He tapped twice on the door with his knuckles. 

"Fräulein? We are back…" 

There was no response from within the room, not even a faint one, though Klavier strained his ears and could hear the television buzzing with some advertisement in the background. 

"Do you hear her?" said Apollo, voice a little cracked, and Klavier chose not to answer. He pulled out his key and unlocked the door, flinging it wide. 

The action stirred up a few papers which were lying loose on the floor, sending them into a miniature whirl. Klavier felt a chill. The television, volume low, cast flickering bright shadows on the floor. 

Trucy was not there. 

"Oh my god," said Apollo, voice crumbling with the rest of him as he sank down to the floor. "Trucy…" 

Klavier stared at his darkened, abandoned office, starting to shiver again. But it was not due to fright this time, it was the breeze- the breeze that was still stirring up those papers. Since when had his office had a breeze? He strode forward, past Apollo, towards his broad window, which currently granted them a view of the glittering night cityscape. Klavier ignored this and felt along one side. There was a panel of glass that- ah. That slid. And it was open a crack. 

"Apollo," he called, "I think-" 

"What?" said Apollo's voice, closer than he'd anticipated, and he couldn't stop himself from jumping. Apollo was right behind him. "Did you find something?" 

"This window opens," said Klavier, showing him the little sliding panel. "And it was open, just now… I think whoever came up here has…" He swallowed. 

"We're five stories up," said Apollo, disbelievingly. "Are you saying that- that somehow Mr. Gavin came here and took Trucy out through this window? That's-" 

"-crazy!" said an agreeable voice, and Trucy Gramarye's face popped up in the little opening. "Prosecutor Gavin, do you think you could make a little more room for me, please?" 

"Trucy!" exclaimed Apollo, in half a howl with his fingers dug into his dishevelled hair, and Klavier pulled the window back so she could clamber inside, entirely unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. 

"Gosh," said Trucy, once her feet were under her, and she'd caught her breath. "That's worse than the high wire." 

Apollo seemed quite unable to utter anything but garbled splutters of incomprehension at the moment, so Klavier took over. 

"Fräulein, was there a particular reason you were hanging outside my window?" 

"Yes, actually, two!" she said brightly. "First of all, I wasn't just going to stay locked in your office, you know. That felt too dangerous, so I decided to leave, but you'd locked the door, so-" 

Klavier snuck a glance at Apollo's face. It did not disappoint. 

"And second, I wanted to catch up to Polly, and make sure he was all right. But it looks like you found him, Prosecutor Gavin, so I never needed to worry in the first place." She gave him a warm, twinkling smile. Klavier had to remind himself that she was a professional. She was _good_. 

"Trucy, the next time you think you're going to help me, you could do it by _not_ hanging off a building by your-" Apollo looked as if he was getting started on a really biting piece of sarcasm, but Trucy (well-practiced, no doubt, by now) shut him up by flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. 

"I'm glad you're safe, Polly." 

Apollo looked both touched and mortified, and the noise that escaped his mouth was "Gnnngh." 

"Oh, careful," said Klavier, seeing where she was hugging. "Herr Forehead is hurt." 

"Hurt?" Trucy exclaimed, taking her arms off her brother at once. "What happened?" 

"Uh," said Apollo, glancing at Klavier, whose smile had faded. "We had a bit of a… tangle at the office." 

"What kind of tangle?" asked Trucy, eyes darting over Apollo's body, searching for injury. Her eyes had gained that sharp quality again, Klavier noticed. 

Apollo looked helplessly at Klavier. "Well, I talked to Mr. Gavin about my suspicions, and he got upset. Uh… a lot upset. He tried to take it out on Klavier when he came in." 

"I would not put it precisely that way," said Klavier, but his sarcasm was muted. He did not like having to think back over the nights' events. Could it all not be a bad dream? 

"If he tried to take it out on Prosecutor Gavin, how come _you're_ hurt?" asked Trucy, lightly touching Apollo's shoulder. "It's not broken or anything, is it?" 

"No, just bruised. Um, and as for why I got hurt, I noticed that Mr. Gavin was about to do something, so I tried to push Klavier out of the way. Kind of got caught in the crossfire." He flinched as Trucy probed at his arm. 

"He must have tried to hit Prosecutor Gavin really hard, Polly! What an awful thing for a brother to do!" She turned to Klavier, eyes full of sympathy. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm all right," said Klavier, but this only served to make her look more worried. She turned to Apollo. 

"I think he should stay with us tonight, don't you?" 

"Yes," said Apollo, very much to Klavier's surprise. He frowned at Klavier. "You shouldn't be alone tonight." 

"I am not some whimpering child," Klavier said tersely. "I don't need caring for." He remembered how he had clung to Apollo in his brother's office with some embarrassment. Couldn't they both just forget about that? 

"I'm not worried about that," said Apollo. "I'm worried about Mr. Gavin. Klavier, he really tried to kill you tonight. He might come after you again- you're probably in more danger than we are." 

When had Apollo started calling him by his first name? Klavier shifted, crossed his arms. He was pronouncing it slightly wrong, as well, putting too soft of an _a_ on it. 

"My brother is not some lunatic, Herr Forehead." 

"Oh no?" Apollo raised his eyebrows, and Klavier felt the pinch of anger under his skin. 

"He was drinking tonight, yes. He felt like he had been backed into a corner, yes. But he will come to his senses. He will contact me, and we can-" 

"No!" exclaimed Trucy. "No, Prosecutor Gavin, don't talk to him if he calls you!" 

"He'll probably try to trick you," said Apollo, nodding. "He knows how much you care about him. He knows you're waiting for him to reassure you." His eyes bored into Klavier, expression borderline accusatory. 

"He is not some heartless automaton. He is my _brother_ ," Klavier said, on the verge of fury. "For a long time, all we had was each other- he wouldn't…" 

Apollo and Trucy were both staring at him now, with expressions he did not like. He bit back the words he'd been going to say, instead opting with, "Besides, I have a roommate. And he is not fond of my brother. So I will not be alone." 

Trucy and Apollo exchanged a look, and Apollo crossed his arms, fingers of his right hand gently brushing his bracelet. 

"You'll tell this roommate about what happened tonight?" 

"Of course," said Klavier. 

"Don't lie," Apollo said at once. "You're not planning to tell him anything." 

"And how should you know that?" Klavier snapped. "How is it you are always, always so confident about who is speaking the truth? You are not some kind of human lie detector!" 

"I don't need to be," Apollo said. "Your eyes dart left when you're lying, Klavier." 

"Is like what you said about my brother? What, that his hand tensed when he lied?" Klavier shook his head in disbelief. "You are crazy!" 

"Do you know how I realized he was going to attack you? I saw his hand tense." 

"That- that-" Klavier spluttered. "That would have been in a split second!" 

"And just now," Apollo continued, "tell me- were you telling me the truth?" 

Klavier pressed his lips together tightly. 

"Stop it, Apollo," said Trucy, poking him in the shoulder and making him wince. "Don't bully him. Prosecutor Gavin, please stay with us tonight? It would make me feel better. Polly too." She looked at him beseechingly. 

"Why…" Klavier hesitated, and looked back at Apollo. "You said you thought I was working with my brother. Even if you don't think that anymore, why should you care this much?" 

Apollo shrugged, the motion seemingly automatic, for it made him grimace. "Because you're not a bad person. When he was threatening me, you came in there and stood up for me. I could tell you didn't want to say those things to your brother, but you knew what you'd heard, and you weren't going to deny it." He rubbed the back of his head, and finished lamely, "That counts for a lot, with me." 

"To be honest, I didn't trust you either," added Trucy. "That's why I tried to climb out the window after you locked the door. But it sounds like you saved Polly back there." She smiled warmly at him. "You're like my very own Apollo pickup service!" 

" _Trucy_ ," Apollo said, shaking his head. "I haven't even talked to you about that yet- do me a favor and never do that again, okay? I'd like to not die of a heart attack this young." 

Trucy gave him an enigmatic smile. 

"This ability you seem to have," Klavier said, making their combined attention snap back onto him. "This… lie-detecting ability. Is that why my brother was so interested in you?" 

Apollo looked at him a long moment before he said, "Probably." 

"I see." He thought back to the conversation he'd overheard. Kristoph had demanded, again and again, that Apollo tell him whether or not he was lying, turned it into a threat. His brother certainly seemed to believe the talent was real.  

"I was stupid," said Apollo. "When I first met Trucy, she helped me figure out how to use it, and I told Mr. Gavin about it. Then soon after that he started offering to be my guardian. I didn't think about the time, but I'm fairly sure he wanted to… use me." 

Trucy gave him a worried glance. 

"You said the Fräulein helped you figure it out," said Klavier. "Does she, too…?" 

"I'm not as good as Apollo," said Trucy. "Because he's got his-" 

Apollo shot her a look and she trailed off with a sheepish smile. Klavier was beginning to get fed up with their voiceless exchanges. 

"My brother wasn't planning to use anyone," he said, and when they both turned and gave him that _look_ again, continued doggedly. "You can think of him as cold, and as- as cruel as you want, but it does not change the fact that he is a great attorney. He wouldn't _need_ to use you." 

"Yes," Apollo admitted, nodding. "I thought so myself… but he forged evidence, didn't he?" 

"He never admitted that." It didn't look good, but somehow Klavier was more willing to believe that his brother would attack him than the idea that his brother's prowess rested upon some kind of trickery. He wondered why he did not find the thought more disturbing. 

"We've gotten off-topic," said Apollo, eyeing him. "I'd like to call Ema, at least, and tell her what happened tonight. She can keep it quiet, and maybe watch our backs for us." 

"You're not going to try to press charges against Mr. Gavin?" asked Trucy. 

"No," said Apollo, and looked at Klavier uncomfortably. "I'm sorry." 

Klavier knew why he was afraid to do aything, and knew, as well, why he had apologized. He said nothing. 

"We have to do _something_ , Polly! We can't just let him walk around free!" Trucy was pacing in her distress. "Should we leave the country? Become… Canadian?" 

"Uh, no," said Apollo, expression inscrutable. "Let's not get too hasty. I'm going to try to keep my job for now, stupid as that sounds. Trucy, Klavier, you both should lie low for a while." 

Klavier smiled at his naivety. "Herr Forehead, I'm not sure you're aware of this, but I happen to be a rock star." 

"Yeah, but come on- are you _really_ that popular?" 

"Ooh, that reminds me, can you play one of those guitars for us?" Trucy added. 

Klavier closed his eyes for a moment, calming himself. The pair of them were quite difficult to handle at the same time. "Fräulein, I do not think that this is the time for that. Later, gladly." 

"A private concert?" Her eyes had a certain gleam to them. Apollo elbowed her. 

"Of course," said Klavier, smiling. "And I will make the tickets twenty-five percent off." 

"Did you hear that, Polly? It's a steal!" 

"Yes, it's definitely a steal," said Apollo. "If we could get back to more important things…" 

"You speak as if there is anything more important than music," said Klavier, making Trucy giggle. "By the way, I still stand by my earlier offer. I can book you a room right now." 

"Well," said Apollo, looking uncomfortable again. "Thank you. Just something simple will be fine." 

Klavier, who had long ago determined that he would check them into the most disgustingly expensive hotel he could find, smiled. "I don't think we want to use my name for now, so you will find your reservations under the name 'Romein LeTouse'." 

"Who's Romein LeTouse?" 

"A man I met in Borgnia. It doesn't really matter." 

"All right, but I still say you should come with us." 

"I'll be going my own way, thanks. But I appreciate your concern." 

Apollo shrugged helplessly and grimaced again. "It's up to you. But I should at least walk you there." 

Klavier coughed. "No, thank you. I will be riding my hog. Perfectly safe. You two…" 

"We've got two pairs of eyes going for us, right, Apollo?" said Trucy. "We'll be fine." 

"Then I'll make the reservation, and give you the address." 

"Make it cheap, please," said Apollo, not quite meeting his eyes. 

"Obviously," said Klavier, watching him. Apollo clearly struggled to accept charity. And his lie-detection ability didn't seem to work when he wasn't directly looking at the person. A small fact to file away. 

"Herr Forehead, let's meet here again tomorrow morning. We can have breakfast and discuss the details." Klavier looked meaningfully at Trucy, and Apollo twitched. 

"R-right. But are you sure it's all right to meet here again?" 

"It is highly unlikely that my brother would attempt anything violent in the prosecutor's office. He is not a stupid man, ja?" 

"True," Apollo said. "Very true. All right, fine. I don't know if I'll be reporting in for work tomorrow anyway. But for now let's get our sleeping arrangement worked out." 

"I'm glad we're going soon," said Trucy, covering up a yawn. "I'm tired." 

"Of course you're tired, you tried to climb down from a third story-window," Apollo said irately. "How the heck were you doing that, anyway? Rope?" 

"You know I can't reveal my secret, Polly." 

"This isn't a magic trick, though! This is… escape art!" 

"Still magic," Trucy said sweetly. 

They continued to argue, and Klavier took the opportunity to step out of his office into the hallway, shutting the door on the sound of their voices. The hall was dark, and before he could stop himself he found that his eyes were darting left and right, scrutinizing the shadows that collected in the areas not illuminated by the dim industrial lighting. 

 _Stop it_. Neither Kristoph nor any other dark demons would be lurking around here. Even now he knew the offices on either side of him were probably occupied by his neighboring prosecutors, working late on their cases. This was one of the safest places he could possibly be. 

Still, as he began dialing the number for the Gatewater Hotel, he felt like shaking again, and cursed himself for his own weakness.

 

* * *

 

It was ten o' clock by the time Klavier had directed Apollo and Trucy to their temporary living quarters and made his way back to Daryan's apartment. He unlocked the door and came in quietly, not that it was really necessary, since the light coming from underneath Daryan's door and the blaring music made it clear that his roommate had not gone to sleep yet. 

Klavier shrugged off his jacket and sank into the couch with a sigh- or tried to. He came back at once, rubbing his back, and elbowed a high-heeled sandal onto the floor. It seemed that Daryan had had some success with his ladyfriend tonight. Or possibly failure. It was hard to figure out what the existence of one shoe signified. 

The existence of the thing made him kind of cross, though, because the couch was _his_ territory as far as he was concerned. He hoped they hadn't had sex on it. At least not recently. Now he was too off-put to lay down. He stood and hovered near Daryan's door for a moment, then opted not to disturb him. Daryan was not really one to consult with delicate matters. Not that he didn't care, he simply had a way of looking at things that was too blunt and simplistic for Klavier's tastes. He could imagine Daryan's response if he told him the events that had transpired that night: "Screw your brother, I'll call some of my buddies down at Interpol and we'll take him in on some minor produce violation or something. The lawyer kid? Why should I care what happens to him or his sister? Let 'em go to jail! They probably deserve it!" 

No, it would be best not to bring Daryan into this, as much as his friend would come to his defense. Better to sort out his family problems on his own. 

That made him think of Kristoph again, and the swift, aggressive motion of his arm swinging down. Klavier stepped into Daryan's tiny kitchen and pulled out a mug for coffee. He wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight, that was for certain. 

As Klavier was leaning against the counter, listening to his concoction bubble in the coffeemaker, the music coming from Daryan's room abruptly turned off. 

"What?!" he heard his roommate bellow. 

A feminine voice responded with something garbled. 

"Don't speak with your mouth full," Daryan sniggered, and the music came back on again, full force. 

Klavier poured his coffee, blank-faced. Apparently the shoe's owner remained in the house. He was almost beginning to wish he'd stayed with Apollo. 

 _…and Trucy_ , he made himself add. He wondered whether or not they'd gotten weird looks, a young man and a girl checking in together. Apollo would have sputtered and hastily explained their relationship, no doubt, while Trucy would have just said something cheeky. If he had gone with them, what would Apollo have said then? "Yes, he's also my brother?" 

Klavier took a sip of his coffee. 

For someone so stiff-looking and sarcastic, Apollo's midsection had been surprisingly warm. 

That was what he allowed himself to think, for the moment. _Clinging_ had always been something Kristoph despised, and Klavier didn't really hold it against him, because it was just the way his brother was. a solitary creature that shunned most contact. But he had always liked animals- furry ones, at least- and there had usually been one or two in the house. Klavier could remember from a very young age his own tendency to cling to the family dog as a surrogate when things got particularly awful. There was a sort of craving for touch, for human contact in him, and he needed to be careful because (as made clear earlier) when he got it, he often lost the laid-back countenance he so carefully had crafted. 

Though, if he remembered it correctly, Apollo had let himself be held for a moment, and had even patted him. He wondered if he could arrange some moment- a sort of thank-you-for-saving-my-life moment- and get a real hug out of him. He didn't _seem_ like a big hugger, but that was half the thrill, wasn't it…? 

Klavier took a long sip of the scorching-hot coffee to chasten himself. It was awfully pathetic of him to be standing there in the kitchen with nothing better to do but imagine scenarios that would get Apollo Justice to hug him. He would have to make a point of avoiding any hugs from him instead, if he wanted to get out of this with his dignity attached. 

A loud utterance came from Daryan's room, audible even over the loud music. Klavier raised his eyebrows as he took his next sip. Where on earth did Daryan find women who were so desperately attracted to pompadours? Perhaps it was just the glamour of being with a rock star that drew them in. Klavier could certainly attest to that. He could recall the first time that Daryan, grinning, had brought two girls into their hotel room, giggling and falling over one another in their excitement.  

"We're minors," Klavier had pointed out at the time, taken aback. They were both sixteen, less than six months after the Gavinners had been formed. 

"So are they," said Daryan. "Same age as us. It's not illegal." 

This was faulty logic, but Klavier had found himself willing to bend the Gavinner's oath of lawfulness a little because he was, after all, sixteen, and intrigued. 

That had been the beginning of a long string of trysts, for as Klavier found out, it was very easy to get people to sleep with if you were a rock star. Daryan was usually the one who would find them- "Pick out the choice ones," as he crudely put it- and brought them upstairs, grinning. Klavier didn't complain. He liked women, and he liked getting off. Though he rarely went as far as to sleep with them. They tended to get uncomfortable if he was in a position with his arms around them, because they could always detect his desire for- not really sex, but something warmer and closer. They had not come there for that, and the night would always end awkwardly, with polite goodbyes and gazes avoided on all sides. Kissing, too, was something he tended to avoid for the same reason. 

Daryan had always been weirded out by what he perceived as a reluctance on Klavier's part, and Klavier often felt like he was being tested, as Daryan brought woman after woman to him, eyes accusing, daring him to suggest- what? That he didn't like women? No, he liked women. That much Daryan didn't have to worry about. It was just that in the rare times when he sought someone out himself, he did not limit himself so much to one gender. 

Klavier took another sip. Those particular instances took place when Daryan was well-occupied elsewhere. Like his recent trip to Borgnia. That had gifted him with a new and interesting experience. 

Daryan's music grew exponentially louder as he flung open his door, one hand holding his pants over his hips, and leaned down to plant a sloppy kiss on the cheek of his giggling companion. 

"Aw, one on the mouth? Please?" 

"No way, gross," Daryan sniggered. "Go wash it out first." 

That earned him a playful smack on the shoulder. "You are _so_ mean! I'm getting out of here, I need to find my shoes." She stumbled towards the couch. Klavier wondered if they'd been drinking. No wonder Daryan hadn't wanted him around. 

Daryan himself was leaning in his doorway, still snickering to himself. Klavier set down his mug. 

"Having a good night, mein friend?" 

Daryan jumped, and swore. "Klavier! Don't pop out of nowhere like that, man. I thought you were staying late at the office?" The last comment was pointed, and he zipped up his pants. 

"Some things came up," said Klavier vaguely. "I'll be out of here again tomorrow morning." 

Daryan was patting around his pompadour- which always miraculously stayed intact in these types of situations- but dropped his hands to give him a hard stare. "Oh, I know that face. It's ol' Blue Suit again, right? I told you, man, even after he dicked up his chance to face off with you the first time, he's still gonna find a way to make your life harder." 

Klavier laughed hollowly. For once, Daryan's words were ones he agreed with. 

"But how about that Wright guy, yeah? I hear the vote was unanimous to take away his badge. Or, well, almost unanimous." 

"Is that so." Klavier didn't have the energy to think about Phoenix Wright's predicament, deserved or not, right now. 

"Yeah, and _you_ did it, Klavier, you really got him good. Wish I could've been there to see the guy's face. Must've been something." He laughed again, and flapped an impatient hand at the girl, who had returned from the couch with both shoes on. "I'll see you tomorrow, ok? Get out of here." 

"So _mean_!" exclaimed the girl, but she left, and Klavier was certain she'd be back. 

"Ugh, she's too clingy," said Daryan, shaking his head. "But I tell you, you were really something in that trial, bringing that art guy in to test the forgery. Where'd you even get all that information ahead of time? The police sure didn't have a clue about it." 

Klavier froze. 

"Okay, okay, I get it, you don't want to rat out your informer," said Daryan, misinterpreting his expression. "Though my money's on the art guy, personally- did he get an attack of conscious?" He gave a mock salute. "Thank god for guilt, huh? Hey, did you make coffee?" 

Klavier stood aside to let him pour himself a cup, mind still running over his words. Why had he not even considered it before? 

Kristoph had known every detail about the forgery, down to the name and location of the artist who had created it. He was so blind. So… stupid! 

His brother had commissioned forged evidence. There was no way for him to ignore that fact now. 

"What's the matter?" Daryan asked, as he ladled spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. "Quit thinking about your brother. You look green. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," said Klavier. "I _will_ be fine." 

His meeting with Apollo tomorrow would be both unpleasant and illuminating, he imagined. He really, really hoped there would be no opportunities for hugging.


	10. Chapter 10

"So that's why I'm asking, man, who the hell are you and why are you looking for Klavier?" 

Klavier had just turned off the shower and was toweling his hair dry when he heard Daryan's voice ring out, loud and irritated-sounding. The mention of his own name made him go still, and he pressed an ear to the bathroom door. 

Daryan was talking again. "Yeah, yeah, right. You don't want to give me your name, you don't want to tell me why you want to see him? I got you figured out. You're just another one of his creepy groupies- sheesh! Sorry, despite all appearances, Klavier's not a fag. Get lost." 

" _Excuse_ me?" said a familiar voice, sounding flabbergasted. "Did you just-" 

"Yeah, I just, and yeah, I can get the police over here in a matter of seconds, you know-" 

"Daryan!" called Klavier, who by this point had hastily shrugged into a robe. "It's all right, I know him." 

"Huuuh?" said Daryan, looking back as Klavier joined him in the doorway. He'd been leaning menacingly over a very flushed and angry-looking Apollo Justice.  

"You know this pipsqueak?"  

"Yes, of course, he works for my brother," said Klavier. Daryan did not seem appeased by this, rather, he raised his eyebrows and gave Apollo a disgusted look. 

"Shoulda known." 

"Why, you-" Apollo looked about ready to start a fight, but Klavier laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"Pardon my bandmate, Herr Forehead. Will you come in? I'd like to fix my appearance before we discuss anything." 

Apollo looked at him and appeared to notice for the first time his damp and disheveled state, purple silk robe and all. A carefully closed expression appeared on his face. 

"All right." 

Daryan snorted and walked back into his room. "I don't know why you put up with this crap, Klavier!" He punctuated his statement by slamming his door. 

"Ignore him," Klavier advised Apollo, who was growing red again. "I'll fix you something to eat." 

"Thanks, but I already had breakfast," said Apollo, following him inside. His eyes were darting in every direction, assessing- they lasered over the untidy heap of laundry on the floor of the living area and the keyboard nesting in heaps of wires next to the flatscreen television. Klavier took the opportunity to discreetly close his bedroom door when they walked by it.  

"Too bad you ate," said Klavier. "We have danishes." He tightened the belt on his robe a little and headed into the kitchen. "By the way, Herr Forehead, not that I'm not pleasantly surprised by your visit, but I don't remember ever giving you my address." 

"You didn't," Apollo said bluntly. He'd stopped just outside the kitchen and was watching Klavier turn on the coffeemaker. "Mr. Gavin did, though." 

"Oh?" said Klavier, fingers slipping slightly over the plastic interface. "When did this come up?" 

"This morning, when he called me." 

There was no point pretending to be unaffected by this statement; Klavier straightened up and turned around. 

"He called you?" 

"Yeah," said Apollo. "At around seven o'clock. Said I was excused from work today. Told me to check on you, because he was _concerned_." Apollo's eyes glittered a little. "Didn't mention anything about last night." 

"Did you?" 

"No." Apollo's expression was sour. Klavier could tell that Kristoph's threats were still hanging over him, paralyzing him. "What could I have said?" 

"It was probably for the best." Klavier turned back to the coffeemaker, shrugging. "We must bide our time for now, and try to collect evidence against him." 

He could hear the surprise in Apollo's voice. "Klavier, you think-" 

"Do you take cream or sugar in your coffee, Herr Forehead?" Klavier interrupted, and pulled out the pot.  

"Uh- a little of both." Apollo stared as Klavier prepared a mug for him, stirring in two spoonfuls of sugar. "Klavier…" 

"If my brother has committed crimes, he should pay for them," said Klavier, tapping the last few grains off the spoon. "It's as simple as that. Here's your coffee." 

"Thanks," said Apollo, accepting it from him, still looking a bit bewildered. "That- that's good, I guess." 

"By the way, where is Fräulein Trucy this morning? You didn't leave her behind, did you?" 

"Well, yes," said Apollo. "She's back at the hotel. Don't worry, I made sure all the windows were locked." 

"I doubt someone as talented as the Fräulein would use the same trick twice," Klavier pointed out, earning himself a look. "Won't she be lonely, staying there alone?" 

"Trucy's good at entertaining herself. Plus, she has homework." 

"Homework or no, I bet she was unhappy that you left by yourself." 

Apollo squirmed a little under his gaze. "Well, yeah, but I told her I was going straight over to you anyway. I'd rather she stay out of sight more than me." 

"Hm," said Klavier, leaning back against the counter. "Well, I trust she will find the lodgings far more amiable than your apartment, anyway." 

"Oh, _yeah_ ," said Apollo, narrowing his eyes. "That hotel- what the hell were you trying to pull? I said find somewhere _cheap_!" 

"It is cheap, Herr Forehead," Klavier said innocently. "For my tastes, anyway. Besides, the Gatewater has some of the best security in town, and it is very close to the police station and the prosecutors' office. You couldn't ask for a safer location." 

"Well, yeah, that's really good, but you gave us the luxury suite! There's a _hot tub_ , for goodness sake! A hot tub! Just in the room!" 

"You don't like hot tubs, Herr Forehead?" 

Apollo gave him a furious look. "Trucy told me to go buy her a bathing suit so she could swim in it!" 

"You might want to get one for yourself as well. A nice hot soak might soften your temper a bit." 

Apollo took a deep breath and decided to take his first sip of coffee. At once his expression changed and his eyebrows raised. 

"What is this? It's good." 

"It's a blend from Germany," said Klavier. "I picked it up during my last visit. I would prefer to grind the beans myself, but you can see Daryan's apartment is not quite equipped for such niceties." 

Apollo gave him a goggle-eyed look and took another sip. "It's really good." His expression became more serious. "Klavier, we need to move to a different room. I don't have the money to pay you back for-" 

"Who ever said you should? It's my treat." 

Apollo slammed his mug down angrily on the counter, slopping hot coffee over his wrist. He appeared not to notice. 

"I don't take charity, and I don't like owing people, Klavier. We're leaving." 

"You don't owe me anything," Klavier said, leaning forward slightly. "In fact, I probably still owe you more." 

"Wh-" 

"You saved my life last night- or did you forget?" 

Apollo's brow furrowed, and he leaned back slightly. "Oh. That- I mean, that didn't really mean anything." 

"I hope it did," said Klavier. "It certainly meant something to me." 

"Uh," said Apollo, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I mean, yes, I didn't want you to, uh, be hurt then, but I didn't do it so, you know, you'd have to pay me back." 

"I know," said Klavier. "Keep the room. If nothing else, it will be a wonderful experience for the Fräulein to go swimming." 

Apollo frowned, still not looking entirely convinced, and sucked on the angry red mark forming on his wrist. Klavier's eyes flicked towards the motion. 

"Do you still want to talk things over at my office?" 

"Yeah," said Apollo, taking his wrist away from his lips. "No offense, but I don't think I like your roommate." 

"None taken," said Klavier, a slow grin forming on his face. If he thought about it, Daryan and Apollo were people who'd be completely opposed to one anther from the start- natural enemies, like the mongoose and the cobra. 

"I need to get dressed, then," he told Apollo. "You may wait here, and sit on the couch, if you'd like." 

"Okay," said Apollo. "Give me a danish." 

Klavier laughed and obeyed, amused at the extremely serious way Apollo took it from him. 

"I'll be ready in a few minutes-" 

"You're so lying," Apollo said around a mouthful of danish. "Better not take forever doing your hair, Klavier." 

"As if you don't spend hours perfecting yours, Herr Forehead," Klavier retorted, and Apollo suddenly went all meek and quiet. Victory, thought Klavier, tightening his robe again, and headed back for the bathroom.  

On his way he realized that there was something odd- rather, something missing. There was no loud music emanating from Daryan's room. 

He'd been listening. 

Half an hour later, when Apollo and Klavier were walking to the prosecutor's office together, he got a text that confirmed it:  

 _When you come back tonight, you better tell me what's going on with that kid and your brother. You owe me an explanation._  

"Something wrong?" asked Apollo, seeing his expression. 

Klavier put his phone back in his pocket. "No, nothing at all." He'd just have to think up a plausible enough story to satisfy Daryan later. 

They walked the rest of the way in silence, though Klavier thought it leaned more towards 'companionable' than 'awkward.' Apollo spent a good deal licking the remains of the danish off his fingers and looking strangely pleased; Klavier filed away the fact that appeared to enjoy sweet things. 

They were met at the entrance to the prosecutors' office by none other than Ema Skye, who was tapping her foot and looking perturbed. 

"Good morning," she told them brusquely. "Prosecutor Gavin, I've been trying to get in touch with you since last night." 

"Oh, was that you?" Klavier said, looking over his shades at her. "I'm sorry. I'm in the habit of ignoring calls from numbers I don't recognize." 

Ema's fingers twitched compulsively around something invisible and crunchy. "Well, it's about the Gramarye case. New details have turned up." 

"Yes?" prompted Klavier, for she paused there. "What have you found?" 

"I can't exactly tell you with him there, can I?" said Ema, looking suspiciously at Apollo. "I see you two are still hanging around together." 

Next to him, Apollo shifted uncomfortably. Klavier shrugged. 

"If you don't want to tell me now, you will have to wait until my business is finished with Herr Forehead here,  Fräulein Detective." 

"Hmph," said Ema, narrowing her eyes. "Are you two going to be up in your office for a while?" 

"I'm afraid so." 

"Well!" said Ema, and turned on her heel and stormed off down the sidewalk. 

"She seems pretty mad at you," Apollo observed, once she was out of earshot. 

Klavier gave a dismissive shrug. "There is nothing in particular I can do to make her less angry, in this case." 

"Shouldn't you try to foster a better working relationship with her?" Apollo pressed, as they walked into the building. "You two are supposed to be partners, aren't you?" 

"Naturally," said Klavier, humoring him, and got a look. 

Once they were in Klavier's office, settling themselves in, he saw Apollo directing that same look to his backless chair. 

"You may sit in the massage chair, you know," he told Apollo, who blanched as if the idea itself was a vulgar one. 

"Don't you have a regular work chair, or something?" 

"Herr Forehead, how could I possibly get any work done in an ordinary office chair?" 

Apollo threw up his hands. "I don't know! Good question." He sat down in the backless chair with a resigned thump. 

Klavier laughed and turned his attention to his computer, starting it up with a few rapid keystrokes. "I want to show you something." 

"Huh?" 

Klavier found the file he was looking for in his inbox- however much Ema Skye disliked him, she was decent enough at doing what he asked. He enlarged the image and pulled it up on his biggest monitor. 

"Recognize this?" 

Apollo leaned forward, frowning. "Of course I do. It's the forged diary page. Did you find something?" 

"Not exactly," said Klavier. "But I did think of something. You know that this forgery was exceptionally well-done, correct? The handwriting, the tear, everything matched." With a few keystrokes he brought up an image of Magnifi's letter to Zak on the next monitor, for comparison. 

"Yeah- so? What does that prove, aside from the fact that the forger was skilled at his job?" 

"Well," said Klavier, pulling up another image on the adjacent monitor, "look at this one." 

"That's…" Apollo frowned. "That's the _real_ diary page, isn't it? The one we found in Valant's letter?" 

"Is it, though?" 

"Is it what?" 

"Real." Klavier enlarged the image slightly. "The handwriting looks similar, and so does the tear, but doesn't something strike you as slightly… off?" 

Apollo stared hard at the image, then stood up and walked to stand beside Klavier so he could peer into the screen, as if examining the minute pixels themselves. 

"You're right," he said, finally. "Something's strange about it. It looks almost more forged than the forged one." 

"Right," said Klavier. "I think, Herr Forehead, that that's because _both_ of them are forgeries." 

"Both of them?" Apollo exclaimed. "But that one looks so much worse!" 

"Yes," said Klavier. "Because it was made by a different forger." 

Apollo stared at him. "You think that there are two different forgers- two different forgers who made two different diary pages?" 

"That is what I think, yes. I'm planning on having the Fräulein Detective run a handwriting analysis as soon as we're done here, to be certain." 

Apollo jabbed his forehead with his index finger, pondering. "Ok, I get where the first forgery would help Zak in the trial. But this letter's bequeathing everything in Magnifi's repertoire to _Valant_. Why would Valant's murderer forge this and give it to him?" 

"Why not say it- why would Zak Gramarye forge this and give it to his partner?" 

Apollo's expression got stubborn. "That's assuming that Zak Gramarye is the one who sent this letter to him! Which we _still_ don't have any proof of!" 

"The letter itself was written from Zak Gramarye to Valant, ja? What better proof is there?" 

Apollo banged his fist on Klavier's desk. "Well, what if the letter itself was another forgery?!" 

"I thought of that," Klavier admitted. "I will have it checked as well. But, Herr Forehead, I'm almost certain that this was penned by him, and that he intended for this letter to reach his partner." 

"And why is that, exactly?" 

"Because of what my brother said to you last night," Klavier said. "He said that we would find Trucy Gramarye's fingerprints on that envelope." 

Dead silence. Apollo's gaze was furious again.

"Are you suggesting that _Trucy_ -" 

"I am not suggesting anything aside from the fact that she may have held the envelope," Klavier said, a mite hastily. "At any point in time. And that if it was ever in her possession, Herr Gramarye probably had access to it as well." 

Apollo thought this over for a moment, leaning forward to peer at the forged pages again, as if they might offer him some new clue. His shoulder brushed Klavier's arm and Klavier worked hard to not notice it. 

"Fair enough," Apollo finally allowed, leaning back. "Though it's still weak reasoning. First of all, we don't actually _know_ that Trucy's fingerprints are even there. Mr. Gavin might have been lying to me." His eyes were rather hopeful as he said it. 

"I doubt my brother would bluff about something like that," said Klavier, and at once Apollo's expression clouded. "Besides, weren't you watching him with your- ah- lie-detecting ability? Wouldn't you be able to tell if he was?" 

"It… doesn't _always_ work." 

"Hm," said Klavier. Apollo had turned away from him. "Well, it should be easy enough to test for ourselves, shouldn't it?" 

"No," said Apollo at once. "If her fingerprints are on that envelope, she'll become a suspect." 

"But you're sure she is innocent." 

"Of _course_ she's innocent!" 

"Then she should have nothing to fear, should she?" 

Apollo glared at him. "You know that's not how our system works. If she's a suspect, she's as good as…" He seemed unable to finish the sentence. "I don't want her to even have to spend time in detention. She was already questioned after her father was put on trial, and again when he escaped. It _drained_ her, Klavier." 

Klavier was quiet for a moment, thinking of the sunny girl handing out balloons in the park. 

"But if we do not investigate this case properly, my brother's threat over you will remain, Herr Forehead." 

"I know," Apollo said bitterly. "I know I'm just playing into his hands. But what can I-" 

He stopped abruptly, for there was someone rapping loudly on the door. 

"I think that will be the Fräulein Detective, demanding an audience," said Klavier, smiling ruefully, and went to open the door. 

He was wrong. It was not Ema Skye standing there when he opened it. It was former attorney Phoenix Wright.


	11. Chapter 11

For a moment Klavier could do nothing but stare, for of all the people to appear at his office, _Phoenix Wright_ had been at the bottom of the bottom of the list. Behind him he heard the backless chair fall over with a loud clatter as Apollo jerked to his feet. 

Phoenix cleared his throat. Klavier's eyes darted over him- blue suit, pink tie- and no badge pinned to his lapel. 

"May I come in?" His tone suggested that he wouldn't tolerate a refusal. Klavier silently stood to one side. 

Phoenix Wright stepped into his office and gave it a quick look-around, expression critical. His eyes landed on Apollo, who had gone very pale and nervous-looking. 

"Mr. Wright…!" 

Phoenix fingered his lapel, as if feeling the emptiness, and Apollo went a shade whiter. 

"Your name is Apollo Justice, isn't it?" 

Apollo was rigid. "Y-yes." 

"I thought so," said Phoenix. "Your face looked familiar. Couldn't place it until I looked through my old records. You applied a few months ago, didn't you?" His expression became wry. "I was confused, because I didn't remember saying I was even hiring at the time." 

Now a tinge of pink appeared on Apollo's face. "No, sir, you hadn't, but…" 

He trailed off. Phoenix sighed and ran a hand over his crenellated hair. 

"I don't get it. Is this revenge, for not hiring you? Is that why you tried- sorry, succeeded- in getting me disbarred?" 

"Mr. Wright, I-" Apollo's expression was one of sheer anguish. Klavier decided it was time to step in. 

"Herr Wright, wasn't it _you_ who presented the forged evidence in court? I fail to see how this implicates Herr Justice." 

"Oh, yeah," said Phoenix, turning to look at him. "I remember you. The prosecuting prodigy- well, the third one I've seen, anyway. Ema told me you two were spending a lot of time together- so, you worked together on this? Was that how you knew to call in the forger?" 

"Absolutely not," said Klavier, his voice cracking slightly from anger. How dare he suggest…! 

"Mr. Wright, I swear, Prosecutor Gavin wasn't involved," said Apollo. "And- and I also swear that I had no idea what was in that envelope when I gave it to you." 

"Right," said Phoenix, swinging back around. "But you told me, when you handed me that envelope, that it was evidence that would help me win that trial. How could you possibly not know what was in it?" 

"I- I didn't prepare it," Apollo stammered. "It was-" He cut himself off abruptly. Klavier could see fear lighting in his eyes. 

"You didn't prepare it? Then who did?" Phoenix demanded. His gaze bore a certain intensity- not the kind Apollo had, but still a kind that Klavier knew would leave witnesses weak and stammering in its wake. It was certainly having that effect on Apollo. 

"Herr Wright," he said, cutting in again. "Regardless of the actions of Herr Justice, you presented evidence that you had not investigated in a court of law. Do you still claim to be innocent?" 

Phoenix looked at him again, and that intensity weakened, tapered off. He let out a long, heavy sigh, and his shoulders slumped, and again his fingers went grasping at his lapel, as if there were a phantom limb there. 

"Of course I'm not blameless," he said. "I… walked willingly into that trap. I know that. And I know that for that, I probably deserved to have my badge taken away. I just want to know _why_." His eyes searched Apollo's face. "Why did you do this?" 

"Mr. Wright, you didn't deserve this," Apollo said miserably. "I know you- I've followed your cases. You didn't present that evidence out of blind stupidity, or anything- you presented it because you'd do anything to protect your client. Isn't- isn't that right?" 

"Hmm," said Phoenix. His words were slow. "Maybe. I don't know anymore." He stroked his chin, where a hint of stubble was beginning to show. "Sorry to come down so hard on you, kid. Ema told me you seemed all right." 

"The Fräulein Detective? She's been conspiring with you?" Klavier's fingers curled. He'd thought that Ema was 'on their side,' for lack of a better phrase.  

"Ema and I are old friends," said Phoenix, glancing at him. "She's the one who asked me to withdraw my request to have Apollo here questioned. In exchange she called me this morning and told me where I could find him." 

"Ah," said Klavier, recalling how she'd abruptly stormed away earlier. 

"You mean, the police aren't looking for me anymore?" Apollo asked. 

"Nope," said Phoenix. "What's the point, anyway? It won't get me my badge back." He sighed again. 

"Mr. Wright," Apollo began, shakily. "I promise you, I had no idea that I was handing you forged evidence. And- and if there were any way to prove that you were set up, I'd-" 

"Set up?" Phoenix's brows lowered. "You mean, by someone other than you?" 

Apollo tensed again, jaw clenching, and looked away. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can say." 

"What he means is that we were all set up," Klavier pointed out. "Even me. Don't glare at me like that, Herr Forehead. I won't mention a name." 

"Kla- Prosecutor Gavin! That's not the point!" 

"Wait a minute," said Phoenix. "Is the implication here that someone is blackmailing you?" 

Apollo just looked at him helplessly. 

" _Is_ it? But why would someone go to so much trouble just to get me disbarred?" His expression became slightly sheepish. "I mean, I'm pretty sure there are easier ways." 

"You are the famous Herr Wright, who can always turn a case around, are you not?" Klavier hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, shaking his head. "Investigate for yourself." 

"I don't quite get your meaning," said Phoenix. "I haven't had a high-profile case in years, and most of my old enemies are in jail, or deceased. I thought I was living a pretty quiet life, honestly." 

"Quiet, _ja_?" Klavier said sardonically. _Quietly_ stealing away his brother's client. "I'm sure someone was bound to notice your underhanded tactics eventually, Herr Wright." 

"Don't talk to him that way, Prosecutor Gavin," Apollo snapped. "You know as well as I do he had no idea the evidence was forged." 

Klavier was taken aback. _Prosecutor Gavin_. It had changed back without him realizing it. 

"Easy, now," said Phoenix, looking surprised himself. "I'll have you know that I have already done a bit of investigating, and there's an easy way to clear all this up once and for all." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, I found the real forger. It wasn't Drew Misham." 

"Wasn't-?" 

"But how could-" 

"I talked to h- uh- them," Phoenix said. "And they saw the face of the person who commissioned the forgery. If I show you to them, Apollo, they can tell me if you were that person. Same with you," he added, looking at Klavier suspiciously. 

Klavier ignored this, for he and Apollo had just exchanged a startled look. 

"Who is this person?" Apollo demanded. "Where does he live? I've got to speak with him!" 

"Right," said Phoenix, giving him a mildly sarcastic look. "I'm sure you do." 

"No, I mean- I'll be happy to meet them with you, Mr. Wright. Honestly." 

"I was thinking more along the lines of showing them a picture," Phoenix admitted. "Though to be frank, I'm not sure they'll talk to me again. They're a bit of a recluse." 

"Understandably, if they're a forger," drawled Klavier. 

"But I need to talk with them," Apollo said worriedly, glancing at Klavier again. "They might be the person we need to get this mess cleared up once and for all." 

"Well, good luck with that," Phoenix said, shrugging. "I guess if you check out I could give you the address, but I doubt they'll even speak to you. I had to do a lot of prying myself to get anything out of them." He smiled wryly. "About the only thing they're interested in is Troupe Gramarye." 

"Ah," said Klavier, at the same time that Apollo said, "Well, that shouldn't be a problem." 

"Huh?" 

"We happen to be- familiar- with a member of Troupe Gramarye," Apollo informed him. 

Phoenix drew his eyebrows together. Slowly he said, "So- you're the ones hiding Zak Gramarye?" 

"What? No! One of the other members, I mean!" 

Now Phoenix just looked utterly lost. "But Valant Gramarye was just murdered!" 

"Trucy Gramarye, Herr Wright, he means Trucy Gramarye." 

" _Trucy_ Gramarye? Is that short for 'Thalassa'? Because I hate to break it to you, but she died at least ten years ago." 

"Trucy's the daughter of Thalassa and Zak Gramarye," Apollo informed him, looking slightly exhausted. "And she's my half-sister." 

Phoenix appeared to need a moment to process all this. Eventually, thumbing his chin, he spoke. 

"So let me get this straight. You're Zak Gramarye's-" 

" _No_. I'm Thalassa Gramarye's son. I am _not_ related to Zak Gramarye." 

"Oh." Phoenix still appeared to be thinking. "So is _Valant_ Gramarye your-?" 

"No, Mr. Wright, I am not related to him either. I don't know who my father was." 

"Oh," said Phoenix again, and Klavier was rather grateful he left it at that this time. Apollo was beginning to look slightly uncomfortable. 

"The point is, Herr Wright, if the forger is interested in Gramaryes, we have access to a Gramarye, ja?" 

"'We'?" repeated Phoenix, raising his eyebrows, and Apollo shot Klavier an irritated look. 

"If Trucy's interested in helping, I guess. But now's not the best time for-" 

"Polly! Of course I'll help!" 

Klavier was _almost_ not surprised to hear the bright voice ring out as his massage chair wheeled around, revealing a sleepy but triumphant-looking Trucy Gramarye. 

" _Trucy_ ," said Apollo, in a strangled way. 

" _Polly_ ," Trucy said agreeably. 

"Um," said Phoenix, who was beginning to look as though he regretted coming to Klavier's office in the first place. 

"Always good to see you again, Fräulein," said Klavier. "Tell me, how long have you been sitting there?" 

"Umm… since before you came in. Detective Skye let me in, and since you guys were taking a while to get here, I kind of fell asleep." She managed to look adorably sheepish. 

"The Fräulein Detective again, hmm," said Klavier. He and Ema were going to have to have a talk. Possibly involving her salary. 

"I told you to stay at the hotel, Trucy." Apollo looked quite angry now. "How did you even get here?" 

"I disapparated, silly!" Trucy said brightly, until she seemed to notice how red Apollo's face was getting. "Um, well, I went through your dirty clothes for change and took a bus." 

"Took a… This isn't funny, Trucy! Do you even realize what could've happened?" 

"No," said Trucy. "Because you won't _talk_ to me about it, Apollo, and you just left me sitting at the hotel." 

Apollo was left gaping. Trucy stood and went to grasp Phoenix's hand, smiling. 

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Wright! Polly talks about you all the time." 

"Oh, um, does he?" Phoenix looked both confused and flattered. "Nice to meet you too. So you're a member of Troupe Gramarye?" 

"Yes, and I would love to meet Mr. Forger. I'm sure if he's such a fan of the Troupe he can't be that bad of a person, right?" 

"Huh? Oh, no, that wasn't the impression I got." 

"Do you think if I talked to him, he'd be more willing to tell you about who hired him? Maybe even testify about it? I want to help clear Polly's name." 

"Hm," said Phoenix, thumbing his chin again. "I don't know. I don't think they've been out of their house, even, for a very long time. But if you showed up- well, I think they'd be thrilled. At the very least they might be more open with their information." 

"That's good! When can we go?" 

Phoenix chuckled. "Well, we might have to arrange things with your brother over there. I don't think he's too happy about this." 

"Oh, Polly's my brother, not my dad, Mr. Wright. He's not the boss of me." 

"Excuse me," Apollo said. "I am too the boss of you right now. And I say-" 

"Herr Forehead, if the Fräulein is willing to help, why stop her?" Klavier rolled his shoulders- he was beginning to get stiff from leaning on the speaker so long. "Isn't it better to have her close by, anyway?" 

At this Phoenix's eyes darted from Klavier to Trucy to Apollo, and something seemed to click in his mind. 

"I can arrange a meeting," he said. "I'm interested in finding out the real identity of the forger as well, if it turns not to be you, Apollo." 

Apollo, who'd been opening his mouth to reply to Klavier, hesitated. 

"Okay," he said grudgingly. "But we have to keep quiet about it, understand?" 

"Hooray!" said Trucy, looking jubilant. "I have to figure out which tricks I'm going to do! Think I should bring Bullets and my magic panties? Oh, but I guess I can't do Mr. Hat, because I still haven't found mine…" 

Phoenix was now giving her a very odd look. Apollo still looked slightly frustrated. 

"This doesn't mean it's okay that you didn't listen to me today, Trucy." 

"I'm sorry," Trucy said, without a trace of earnestness. "I know! You should buy me a cell phone, so I can call you when I'm mad at you for abandoning me." 

Apollo's expression was indescribable. Klavier wondered if Trucy would ever cease to impress him. 

"Be gentle with your brother, Fräulein, I need him in one piece," he was saying, when there was another knock on his door. 

"That should be the Fräulein Detective," Klavier said, frowning. If it wasn't, he was going to have to start kicking people out. His office was rapidly filling up with unexpected visitors. 

But this time it was Ema standing there when he opened the door, looking quite miserable. 

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "Criminal Affairs got a tip-off, and I really didn't have any choice but to come get you." 

"What?" exclaimed Trucy, moving to stand protectively in front of Apollo. "I thought Mr. Wright said he cancelled the warrant for Polly's arrest!" 

"Not him," Ema said, shaking her head. "You, Miss Trucy. You're wanted for the murder of Valant Gramarye." 

Trucy said nothing, but her eyes were wide. Now Apollo moved to stand in front of her, one hand gripping her shoulder. 

"On what grounds, exactly?" 

"If Prosecutor Gavin had listened to me earlier, he would know," said Ema, sounding frustrated. "Two new pieces of evidence just turned up, and both of them point to her." 

Klavier felt slightly sick as he felt Apollo's gaze shift to him. Levelly, he said, "And what are they?" 

"In the bushes next to the entrance to the hotel where the murder took place, there was a mug. And a hat. The mug has traces of atroquinine on the rim. Fingerprints on both items match the ones on the envelope. And it's fairly easy to say that the hat belongs to her." Ema looked very unhappy. "I've got no choice. I have to bring her in." 

Trucy winced and took Apollo's hand off her shoulder. "It's okay, Apollo. I'll go with her. I already know the policemen pretty well, right?" 

"Trucy-!" 

Ema was wringing her hands, and suddenly she turned to Phoenix, who'd been watching silently. 

"Mr. Wright, can't you help them the way you helped me?" 

"I- you think I should defend her?" Again his fingers grasped uselessly at his lapel. "I'm… sorry. I can't now." 

"Of course," Apollo said weakly. "We've got no choice. We have to call him." 

"Herr Forehead-" 

But Trucy interrupted him. 

"Apollo, I'm not going to accept anybody as my defense except you- understand?" 

"Trucy, you can't say that," Apollo said. "I- I've never had a case before. There's no way I could even hope to defend you properly against all this evidence. If you don't want to be convicted, we have to-" 

"Apollo," Trucy said firmly. "I'd rather be convicted than have anybody but you defend me." 

Apollo said nothing. Klavier looked at him and wished he hadn't. He looked as if he were near tears. 

"Prosecutor Gavin," said Trucy, startling him. "Prosecutor Gavin, you'll still be handling this case, right?" 

"I- yes, _ja_." 

"I trust you," she said, smiling. "I trust both of you. I'm not worried. You'll find the person who killed Uncle Valant." 

"Come on," said Ema. "We have to go now." 

"Okay," said Trucy. "Mr. Wright, can you postpone that meeting? I'll be busy for a while." 

"Of course," said Phoenix. "Just a couple days, right?" 

Trucy nodded. Ema put a hand on her shoulder, and they walked together out of Klavier's office. 

After the door swung shut behind them, Apollo spoke, his voice cracking. 

"What am I supposed to do now?" 

Klavier found himself at a loss for words. Was there really any other alternative but to call his brother? 

To his surprise, it was Phoenix who spoke up.  

"You're new at this, right? The first thing you need to do is start investigating." 

"Huh?" 

"Unless you really think she's guilty?" 

Apollo, looking horrified, shook his head vehemently. 

"Good." Phoenix patted him on the shoulder. "So long as you believe she's innocent, there's no problem, is there? You'll be able to figure out what really happened." 

"But- Mr. Wright-" 

"Don't worry," said Phoenix Wright. "I'm going to help you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I've had this chapter for quite a while but I forgot to put it up. Sorry!)

It was surprising how easily Klavier had let himself get kicked out of his own office. 

He chafed at the humiliation of it, oh how he chafed. But watching Trucy get arrested right in front of Apollo- seeing the helpless look in his eyes- Klavier had been unable to argue when Phoenix Wright looked at him and suggested politely that the defense had things to discuss. 

 _Things_ to _discuss_. 

It burned at him. _Prosecutor Gavin_. The way Apollo had looked at Phoenix, face raw and desperate. 

He kicked angrily at the brick wall outside Daryan's apartment complex, but all he succeeded in doing was scuffing his boot. The damage and smarting pain in his toes brought him back to reality, and he sighed. What was he _doing_? He felt like he'd had a goal at one point, but had long since lost sight of it. Instead he was stuck just staring at Apollo, who was now coming into focus, now fuzzy and indistinct again. 

His emotions were too riled up and intense right now. It almost frightened him. He rolled his shoulders, trying to affix his own identity back into place. He was Gavin, rock-star prosecutor. He had an _image_ to maintain. Apollo was inconsequential. A friendly ally, perhaps, against… against... 

He shrugged away that line of thinking too. The Kristoph problem was one he'd successfully avoided confronting thus far. His brother hadn't even tried to get in touch with him, not once. Probably… probably because he was feeling remorse. Klavier could hardly imagine what sort of thoughts were going through his brother's head after the events of the night before. Perhaps it was best if they all lay low for awhile… settled down.

Though he had to admit, with Trucy's trial starting the next day, Kristoph was unlikely _not_ to act. He had, after all, threatened Apollo with this very possibility. But now Apollo was putting his head together with Wright, the very thing, Klavier thought, that was most likely to arouse his brother's wrath. Understandably! that small voice in his head chimed. Second-rate attorney Wright had stolen his brother's client! 

Understandably…? Did that merit taking away Wright's badge, implicating Apollo, threatening his sister? 

Killing Klavier? 

But Wright deserved to get his badge taken away. Apollo was a casualty, but if he kept his mouth shut… And Klavier was sticking his nose where it didn't belong. 

Klavier shivered, out there in the sunlight. Suddenly, all too easily, he had found himself tracing the path of his brother's logic. And the horrible thing was that his brain had clamored to agree. Maybe if it had not been his own life at stake, he would have succumbed entirely, instead of feeling repulsed by the _wrongness_ of it all. 

 _But there has to be an explanation._  

There _had_ to be. 

He was thinking in circles. In fact, he was pacing in circles, right out there on the sidewalk, probably looking like a lunatic. He forced himself to stop, to go inside the building through the clear doors into the stagnant indoors.  

He was not entirely sure what he thought he was doing, walking all the way back to Daryan's apartment. Wright hadn't actually given him a time, or any sense of how long he'd want to be conferring privately with Apollo. Klavier thought, a little hatefully, that he ought to go back right now, demand that they take their meeting elsewhere, let him work in _his_ office. The only problem with that scenario was that it took Apollo straight out of his territory, out of his line of sight. 

He really, really wasn't liking Phoenix Wright. 

 _Stupid_ , he thought, as he climbed into the elevator. He was smart enough to realize what was clouding his judgement at the moment. Not a good thing. Especially not in this situation. This was not the time or the place to become infatuated with a red, puffed-up little defense attorney. 

He pulled his mouth glumly down, since he was in the elevator where no one could see him. It was the hug. That usually set him off. Physical contact. There was nothing about Apollo in particular that… 

 _Ding_. The elevator doors opened, and Klavier reset his face. 

When he got into Daryan's apartment, he made a beeline for the couch, fully intending to strum his guitar and caterwaul his negativity out the window. Unfortunately, he'd entirely forgotten about the text he'd received earlier. Daryan was also in the living area, messing with the keyboard, and when he looked up and spotted Klavier his eyes gleamed like he'd scented blood. 

"Sit down, Klavier, and tell me what the _fuck_ is going on with you and your brother." 

Klavier sort of froze for a moment, like some last stupid vestige of self-defense. He had not yet prepared a story to feed the shark with. 

"I know some of it," Daryan said, flicking the power switch at the top of the keyboard, making the little red light blink, "no thanks to you, friend. I heard your little talk with your little attorney buddy this morning and it reminded me that hey, my pals in the police department have been looking for some kid involved with the forgin' attorney. Hey, guess what, the files on that kid match the face I saw this morning. Though…" He looked at Klavier, eyes heavy-lidded. "The police file didn't mention he worked for your brother." 

"Oh?" said Klavier, working on gathering shreds of unaffectedness together. "That's shoddy work on their part, ja?" 

"So then I called one of my buddies about seeing this kid, since you looked like you were- I dunno, too busy _flirting_ with him to notice the fact that he's wanted- and they say hey, the kid's off the hook. We're looking for his _sister_ now." 

"Ah," said Klavier, drawing all the little threads together. "You told them where to find him, hmm?" 

"I said hey, I think lil' sleeves has been hanging around with my buddy Klavier, maybe his sister's there too." Daryan shrugged, leaning back to put his hands behind his head. "I know you would've done the same thing, right, _mein friend_?" 

Klavier forced himself to chuckle. "Ja, if only the situation were that simple." 

"Hmm, yeah, right, of course." Daryan snorted. "It's your brother, right? This whole thing stinks like him. He's put something over you about that kid, hasn't he?" 

"Something like that," Klavier said. "I have to admit, I myself am not fully sure about what's going on in his head." 

"Yeah," said Daryan, "what with him, I dunno, committing a crime and all. Did I hear that correctly this morning? And what's the deal with you saying the kid saved your life, huh? You better explain that right goddamn now, Klavier. And don't go wiggling out of it- I see you trying to. I _know_ you, buddy. Give it to me straight, and maybe I won't break your brother's jaw." 

"I would prefer that you did not," Klavier said lightly. "Honestly, Daryan, I was exaggerating this morning. Herr Justice was reluctant to accept my help, so I- _overemphasized_ the help he'd given me the night before." 

"Uh-huh." Daryan didn't look like he was buying that for a second. "And what help, exactly, did he give you?" 

"Well," said Klavier, keeping his face serene while his mind scrambled to put words in order, "he and I had been talking, and we suspected that my brother might have been involved in some… less-than-legal activity. I confronted my brother about it, and he was understandably-" _understandably_ again "-quite angry with me. And Herr Justice was the one who managed to get me off the hook, so to speak." 

"Huh," said Daryan, tilting his head as he digested this, and Klavier found himself sweating, wishing he could extricate himself from Daryan's hook so easily. "You mean, your uptight, shit-don't-stink brother was doing something illegal? Like what, exactly?" 

"That's the thing, mein friend, we have no proof yet. So for now, we'd like to keep it quiet." 

"'We', huh," said Daryan, unconsciously parroting Phoenix, which made Klavier want to frown again. "So you're working together with that loudmouthed little pipsqueak?" 

"Temporarily, yes, since we share a common interest." 

"In getting your brother convicted. _You_ want to get Kristoph convicted." 

"If he has committed a crime, he should pay for it," said Klavier, almost more to himself, though he was looking Daryan directly in the eye. 

A slow grin spread across Daryan's face. "I don't fucking believe it." 

"Daryan-" 

"I don't _believe_ it. I told you that prick was no good for how long, Klavier? You're finally seeing it! Damn! This is great!" His unpleasant smile had come back in full force, and Klavier had no choice but to smile along with him. 

"Yes, Daryan, I suppose it is 'great'." 

"Oh whatever, man, you know this day was coming. You're gonna catch that jerk getting his hands dirty, _finally_. Isn't it a load off your back? All those years of him breathing down your neck, trying to control every single damn thing you do- tell you what, if you need any help, I'm behind you. Hell, I can probably even get him arrested over something completely stupid, if I pull the right strings." 

Klavier let out another laugh- his assessment of Daryan's reaction had been so unfortunately spot-on. "Nein, nein, that won't be necessary. I would prefer to catch my brother the old-fashioned way, with evidence." 

"Heh. Sure. Whatever. But if it takes too long, man, I might step in and help. I am so sick of that asshole." 

"Touching, Daryan, really. But let me handle it. It is… delicate, ja?" 

"Oh, ja," Daryan said mockingly. "Something to do with that kid and his sister, huh? I hear she killed her uncle." 

"News got around that fast?" 

"Oh, yeah. Just turn on the TV, man. They're calling it the 'Final Curtain' for the Gramaryes." He laughed, baring his teeth. "Not like that outdated old act had much left going for it, anyway. More like the 'Final Gasp,' if you ask me." 

The poor Fräulein, thought Klavier. As if losing her father and uncle wasn't enough. 

"But anyway, this kid," said Daryan, leaning forward in a way that made Klavier flinch as his elbow hit a trio of discordant keys. "This defense attorney kid. What's his deal, then?" 

"Him? No deal. What do you mean?" 

"I mean, look, he's trying to get his boss put in jail. Is he stupid or _stupid_?"

Klavier flashed him a smile. "Luckily, Daryan, Herr Forehead is about as fond of my brother as you are." 

"Ha ha. Well, that means he's not as dumb as he looks, anyway. But it's friggin' weird that he showed up here to get you, man. I think he _likes_ you, you know?" 

If only. "I don't think so, Daryan." 

"No, I mean like he likes you, right? Like, he's a faggot." 

"Yes, I understand what you mean. But I highly doubt that. And if so, what?" Klavier shrugged. "He wouldn't be my first male admirer. It hardly changes a thing." 

Daryan snorted and flicked at one of the sliders on the keyboard. "All I'm saying is, don't encourage the goddamn behavior. I don't want you parading around in your bathrobe feeding this kid and then suddenly the kid is here every day like you're his goddamn wife." 

"I am honored that you are so concerned. Or is it, perhaps… jealousy?" 

"Oh, _fuck off_ , Klavier," said Daryan, standing abruptly, and Klavier's smile widened, though more from relief than anything else. Daryan was conceding defeat and effectively retreating, as he stalked past Klavier and slammed himself into his room. The shark had vanished into deeper waters. 

Well, that had handled that, though Klavier knew he wouldn't be hearing the last of it. Especially if he didn't pin down Kristoph fast enough for his bandmate's liking, and especially if Apollo started hanging around more often. Daryan had a nose for when Klavier had a male crush. It would be best if he visited Apollo from now on instead of the other way around. 

As if the thought had summoned it, his phone vibrated in his pocket at the next moment. He checked the number with trepidation and found himself unsurprised. 

"Ja?" 

Apollo's voice sounded very tired. "Hi. Can you come back?" 

"Oh, are you done having your private little session? I can wait a while longer if you would like more time to fawn over Herr Wright." 

"Ha ha. Come back. I need to talk to you." 

"May I remind you, Herr Forehead, that at this point our sharing of information should be… limited?" 

"It's not about that. Look, Mr. Wright left. I told him I'd think about it. But I mean, there's no way I can accept his help, is there?" Apollo sighed, very softly. "He doesn't even trust me, anyway." 

"Ach, poor creature. What do you want _me_ to do about it, hmm?" 

"Klavier, come on." 

So it was back to _Klavier_ now.  

"Fine, I will come by. But Herr Forehead… I will be taking my duty in this case seriously, ja? You understand what that means, don't you?" 

The temperature of Apollo's voice seemed to drop several degrees. "Sure. Of course I do." 

Klavier was already beginning to regret his own catty words, but it was much to late to act remorseful. He forced an element of cheer into his tone. "Achtung! I'll be there in twenty minutes." Without waiting, he hung up. 

The phone was warm in his hand. He had to remember to cancel the reservations at the Gatewater. Apollo would be returning home to his empty apartment now. 

The right thing, the wrong thing… which was he doing?

 

* * *

 

Klavier had a mental filing cabinet full of possible scenarios by the time he returned to his office, and was so distracted that he started digging around for his keys before remembering that his door would be unlocked. 

Apollo must have heard him shuffling around outside, because he opened the door. For a moment they stared at one another, and then they both started talking at once. 

"I have to say-" 

"Look, Klavier-" 

They stopped. Klavier coughed. 

"Going to invite me in, Herr Forehead?"

Apollo stood to the side, favoring him with a sardonic half-smile. Klavier was somewhat relieved that he was smiling at all. He must have been less angry than he sounded on the phone. 

Apollo shut the door behind him after he entered, and said, "I'm not going to discuss the case with you. I get it, you have to do your job. That's fine. I don't want to be the kind of attorney that tries to influence the prosecution ahead of time anyway." 

"No, that must wait until the trial itself," Klavier said wryly, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants. "Perhaps I came off more dismissive than I intended on the phone. I do not think discussing the case in a general sense is immoral, anyway." 

"We've already talked about it much more than we should, if we're going to be on opposite sides." Apollo hesitated, giving Klavier time to feel a pang of bad conscience. He'd been the one to reveal his suspicions about the second diary page to Apollo that morning, a move that had perhaps been motivated by the need to impress more than anything else.  

"Though honestly," Apollo continued, not noticing his inner turmoil, "I still don't know if I should be the defense for this trial. The right thing to do would be to hire your brother, wouldn't it?" 

"The _right_ thing?" 

"I mean for Trucy's sake." Apollo's face was grim. "And I don't say that just because he's a better defense attorney than I am. I say it because I think he knows a lot more about this case than either of us do." 

Klavier leaned forward, starting to grin. "Ah, of course he does. You're about to say he's been the mastermind and the murderer all along, ja?" 

"No, of course not. But I do think his hand has been in this case." Absently Apollo probed his forehead, frowning. "He knows too much about it." 

"Like what?" 

"Well, okay, just one thing, to my knowledge. But an important thing." 

"The suspense is sickening, Herr Forehead. Tell me." 

Apollo's eyes flicked up to meet his. "He knew that Trucy's fingerprints would be on that envelope." 

"So what?" 

"Klavier, the police didn't even know that until today. Doesn't that strike you as _odd_?" 

"N-nein." Klavier swept his bangs out of his eyes so he could have an excuse to break their gaze. "My brother is exceptionally deductive, don't you know that? He is a genius. If he has the crime figured out, it is likely due to his skill and experience more than anything." He continued to play with his bangs, feeling the intensity of Apollo's gaze increase on him. 

"I think he must know a lot more about this case than he really should. And I'm guessing that that's because Zak Gramarye was his client. Because I'm pretty sure that Trcuy's holding something back from me." Apollo shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "Something she discussed with her father. I wonder if Mr. Gavin somehow listened in on their private conversations." 

"He'd be within his right, if they happened at the detention center… most everything is recorded." Klavier was starting to want to squirm, watching Apollo- his anxiety was always so contagious. "If you think he knows something, you should just ask him." 

Apollo gave him a heavy look. "Did you forget what happened last night already, Klavier?" 

Now Klavier did squirm. "Of course I did not. But, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to work with him just until the Fräulein goes free again." 

"Free until when, Klavier? When is your brother going to stop trying to keep my mouth shut? If Mr. Wright wasn't so understanding, I… I'd be in jail by now!" 

"So," said Klavier, a sour note coming into his voice, "if that is the case, do not contact my brother. Wright is a capable attorney, ja? Ask him to act as your aide, since he has already offered." 

"You think Mr. Gavin will just let that slide? He's going to suspect that I'm telling Mr. Wright everything about him forging the evidence!" 

"So what? What can he do, if he thinks that? Nothing but sulk quietly." 

Apollo glared at him. "You know exactly what your brother is capable of doing when he feels threatened." 

Klavier's chest felt like it was constricting. He looked away again. "My brother has yet to attempt to harm you." 

"Really, Klavier?" Apollo was scowling. "That's another thing. If I do ask Mr. Gavin to help me, maybe you should step down as the prosecutor." 

"You-" For a moment Klavier was so angry he couldn't speak. "I am capable of handling my brother in court!" 

"He tried to kill you! I think that's a legitimate reason to stay away from him!" 

Klavier's chest had constricted so much he felt dizzy. How did Apollo know? How did Apollo know he had been thinking of removing himself from the case? Not because he was frightened of his brother, but because it was all too close, now, he was too biased to do his job properly anymore… He didn't want to convict Trucy Gramarye. He did not believe in his heart that she could murder anyone. But then again, he didn't want anyone else- anyone else who could only see the overwhelming amount of evidence stacked against her- to stand in his place. 

And then there was Kristoph. How long had he dreamed of facing his brother in court one day? How had everything managed to turn so sour so quickly? 

"That is not a concern in the courtroom," he forced himself to say. "As I mentioned before, Kristoph is not _stupid_. My part in this doesn't matter. You want to do what is best for the Fräulein." 

"Klavier-" 

"As kind as it is for you to be concerned about my well-being, Herr Forehead, I wonder if it is not misplaced." Klavier gave him a disarming smile. "I am very capable of managing my own affairs. Worry about your own." 

Apollo was staring at him again, an odd look on his face. 

"What is it? You have something more to discuss?" 

"I think that you- um, your phone is ringing." 

Klavier blinked. It was, and the tinny jingle from the Gavinners' hit single was filling the room. He pulled it out from his pocket and looked at the front. 

"Excuse me, Herr Forehead. I need to take this." 

Apollo nodded slowly and watched him as he left his office back for the hallway. Out there, in the relative silence, Klavier felt strangely calm as he lifted his phone to his ear. 

"Kristoph." 

"Klavier," came his brother's voice, cool and collected as ever. "I was expecting a call from you." 

"Had we… agreed to call each other?" 

"I was expecting you to call me out of _courtesy_ , Klavier," said Kristoph's voice. "After what happened last night. But it's fine. How are you feeling, today?" 

"I-" Klavier was wholly taken aback. This was not how he had expected the conversation to go. "I'm all right." 

"I'm glad to hear that." Kristoph's voice sounded wry. "I must admit, I was a little concerned. You seemed very flustered last night, very unlike yourself." 

"Yes, well…" He was nervous now, his heart pittering away under his breastbone, and he hated himself for it. And for how hard it was to get the next words out of his mouth. "So did you." 

"Yes, I suppose I was a bit rash, wasn't I?" Kristoph gave a dry chuckle. "Still, I am glad you're not hurt. That's the important thing." 

"Is… it?" 

"And Justice." Kristoph's voice was so smooth. "Has he apologized to you yet?" 

"J- Herr Justice? No… why should he apologize to me?" 

"Klavier, really," Kristoph chided him. "For lunging at you like that and knocking you over. Even having drunk alcohol, there is no excuse for that kind of rash behavior. " He sighed. "Really, I thought that I had trained those sorts of outbursts out of him, but given his upbringing…" 

"Kristoph," Klavier said, slowly. "You want Apollo to apologize to me… for attacking me?" 

"Are you implying-" Kristoph was laughing "-that I should apologize to him as well, for hitting him? I already have, Klavier. I did this morning when I told him to go apologize to you. Though frankly I think my actions were justified, if rash. After all, they were motivated out of concern for my younger brother." 

A clerk walked past him in the hallway and Klavier struggled to keep his face composed into something that wasn't slack-jawed confusion. "But you were… you were aiming at me, Kristoph!" 

" _Was_ I?" Now Kristoph's voice had an edge of disgust. "Did Justice feed you that excuse again? Do you honestly think I'd attack you, Klavier?" 

Klavier stood there mutely, stupidly, and Kristoph's voice came deeper and sterner. 

"Do you?" 

"No- nein, no, I don't," Klavier stammered, and now Kristoph laughed again. 

"Honestly, Klavier, I am a bit disappointed in your faith in me. I hit Justice because he had so suddenly lunged at you. What could he possibly have been so upset about? He is hotheaded, yes, but he usually expresses remorse for these types of things… I am somewhat disappointed that he has not. I expected better of him." 

"I suppose," said Klavier, feeling somehow as though he were sinking, trying to vainly claw his way upwards, "I suppose he was just- upset- about what you said about his sister." 

"Well, he should stop being so protective on her behalf. Isn't it true? I was only trying to make him face the facts he will have to eventually. I am sorry you had to come in to that, but really, Klavier, you shouldn't be listening in at doors." 

"I'm… sorry." 

"It's all right. I understand. Just knock, next time, won't you?" 

Klavier nodded mutely, but Kristoph didn't seem to care whether he heard his agreement or not. 

"As for the trial tomorrow…" 

Klavier saw his chance, and seized it, feeling desperate. 

"Ah, about that, I was thinking that I'd step down, for this one." 

"Step down?" Now Kristoph's voice was mildly disapproving. "Why?" 

"Because I- I'm too closely involved, right now, and I did not think that I could fairly-" 

"Are you still so shaken? I did not know that you were so _fragile_ , Klavier." 

"I'm not! I just-" 

"I thought that you said you were going to take your prosecuting career seriously now. Is this what that amounts to? How disappointing." 

"Please, Kristoph," Klavier's throat was raw. "I didn't mean it like that. If- if you think that I should still take on the case-" 

"Oh no, Klavier," Kristoph said, very dryly, "if you feel that you are too emotionally _compromised_ to do your job, by all means, take a day off. I am sure there will be other times for us to see each other in court. Divorce proceedings, perhaps?" 

"No, nein, I will be in court tomorrow. I'll be there!" 

"Don't shout." Kristoph's voice was icy. "Try not to embarrass me, Klavier. And if you want to have a chance tomorrow, I expect you to try your hardest to get that girl convicted. Or do you want people to think you've been collaborating with the defense?" 

"No…" 

"Then get her a guilty verdict. There is certainly enough evidence, and the case is straightforward. Even you should be capable of handling this." 

"Ja," Klavier said hoarsely, "ja, I can." 

"If and especially if I am not there to defend." 

"Of course, mein bruder." Klavier swallowed.  

"'Bruder,' indeed. Give me a reason to be proud when people ask if we are related." 

"I'll make sure she's found guilty." 

"She _is_ guilty." 

"She is guilty!" 

"Calm down, I told you not to shout. Are you sure you're truly prepared for this? I hear prosecutor Payne has been looking for a case." 

"Nein, Kristoph, I will prosecute tomorrow." Klavier's phone was sliding in his sweaty palm. "I'll defeat you." 

" _Defeat_? Spare me the melodrama. I only want to have a good clean session." 

"Of- of course."  

A _clean_ session, he said. Though there was that too-perfect diary page. Apollo's words: _I think his hand has been in this case_. The trajectory of that bottle, swinging downwards towards his forehead. Trucy, giving the children balloons in the park. 

Kristoph's voice purred in his ear, "Are you still hesitating, Klavier?" 

It was hard to breathe again. Klavier struggled to find his footing. "Nein." 

"I don't know what lies Justice has been feeding you, to cover for himself. But I would expect that _my_ words would bear more weight for you than his would." 

"Of course, bruder, I…" He suddenly found himself gulping for air, struggling to keep the sound of his own heavy breathing from entering the phone. "I trust you." 

"I hope so. Sometimes you make it… difficult… to trust you. But you'll live up to my expectations, won't you?" 

Klavier said nothing- his chest was fluttering, his office door was opening, and Apollo's hand was on his wrist as he shouted, "Prosecutor Gavin!" 

"Is that Justice?" his brother said, sounding surprised and displeased, before Apollo pulled the phone out of his hand and hung it up. 

Klavier pulled in a sudden deep breath. "You- you made me hang up on him!" 

"How could you talk to him!" Apollo's fingers were white where he was clenching them around Klavier's expensive phone. "I told you not to talk to him!" 

"Give me my phone back!" Klavier was shaking again, and he felt a fresh wave of self-loathing, because they were shouting in the hallway, and people were poking their heads out of their offices to stare at them. 

Apollo noticed too, and grabbed him by the wrist again to drag him inside the office and push him inside. He closed the door with measured restraint, like he'd wanted to slam it instead.

"Give me my phone," was all Klavier could say. "I need to call him back. He'll be upset." 

"Yeah? He'll be _upset_?!" Apollo opened his mouth like he was about to say something really sarcastic and cutting, but hesitated, eyes flicking over him. "What did he say to you?" 

"Nothing. _Nichts_." Klavier could barely remember what Kristoph's words had been, only that everything he'd believed had been horribly wrong. "You should leave, Herr Justice." 

"Hey," Apollo said, frowning, stepping closer. "Calm down." 

 _Calm down_. "I am calm. You need to leave my office." 

"What did he say?" Apollo's hand was on his arm, the light touch making him twitch. 

"He said that he was sorry about last night, and he wanted me to try my best tomorrow. That's all." 

Apollo's free hand had crossed over to touch his bracelet. "Klavier, you're lying." 

"Am I?" He hated the edge of desperation in his voice. "You've been lying to me. You're deceiving me." 

"He said that?" 

"Ach! I should have seen it. I should have…" 

Apollo's touch had turned into a firm grip. "I have _never_ lied to you. Not once." 

"You're lying to me _now._ " 

"No. No, I'm not. I want you to sit down, all right? I'll get you some water, or… something." 

Belatedly Klavier realized he was still gasping, and struggled to control his breath. 

"I'm fine. You don't need to…" He couldn't finish the sentence. Apollo drew him over to the backless chair and he sat down with a thump. 

"Are you… better, now?" 

His breathing was starting to slow. He nodded, unable to make eye contact. 

"Do you need anything? Water, or…" 

Klavier coughed a little, cleared his throat. 

"What, what is it?" Apollo was crouching by now, giving him the most serious of concerned expressions. He almost wanted to laugh at the strange intensity of it. No one looked at him like Apollo did. 

"Can I…" Oh, this was bad, bad, this was exactly the kind of thing he knew he should avoid, "…hold you?" 

He had looked down, but as the silence stretched he couldn't bear it anymore and snuck a glimpse at Apollo's face. His eyebrows were down, and he looked faintly bewildered. 

"I… guess?" 

Klavier didn't move, and Apollo said, "Um." Shuffled his feet. "Um, come here, then." 

 _Back out now_. "It was a joke, Herr Forehead." 

Apollo looked even more confused, and faintly hurt. He drew back a little. "Oh… was it?" 

"No," said Klavier, dropping those last few shreds of his composure like so much ballast and sprang up and wrapped his arms around him, burying his head in his neck. Apollo went completely stiff and made a strangled sound. 

"Sorry," mumbled Klavier, into Apollo's collarbone, pressing his face against the fabric of his suit, staring into a sea of crimson.

" _Ow_!" Apollo shouted into his ear, and belatedly he realized he was pressing down on the bruise Kristoph had given him the night before. 

" _Verzeihung_! Sorry!" He let him go and Apollo staggered back a little. "I am sorry. That, that was unacceptable. Sorry."

"Uh, it's all right," said Apollo, flinching and rubbing his shoulder. "Just, you know, a little less, uh, enthusiasm, maybe?" 

"Ja, yes," said Klavier, admonished. "I am sorry. I forgot about your shoulder. Is it still painful?" 

"Just bruised," said Apollo, shrugging. "See, I can move it all right now. It doesn't hurt unless someone, you know, grabs it and shoves their face against it." 

"I thought he hit you on the _back_ of the shoulder." 

Apollo gave a kind of sheepish grin that Klavier found worryingly cute. 

"Yeah, okay. I mean, it's all right if you want a hug… Trucy does it all the time, so I'm kind of used to it." 

"Ah, the Fräulein does it. Does that mean I may do anything she does?" His mouth was running away from him again; he couldn't stop it. "May I also kiss you on the cheek?" 

Luckily Apollo interpreted this as sarcasm and merely narrowed his eyes at him. "You seem to be feeling better now. Want to talk about what happened?" 

"Ah," said Klavier, rudely brought down to earth. "I don't see what there is to talk about." 

"Oh yes you do. He told you I was lying to you. And he made you say that Trucy was guilty!" 

"You were _listening_ , Herr Forehead?" 

"Obviously! You were standing right next to the door, being loud!" 

Klavier made another mental note to order his soundproofing soon. "My brother was trying to persuade me to see his point of view." 

"Yeah, persuade, that's _not_ the word I was thinking of." 

"All right, then tell me something, Herr Forehead." Klavier sat back down, crossing his legs. "Which happened first last night, his attack or yours?" 

It seemed to take a moment for Apollo to work this out in his head, face slowly becoming more incredulous. 

"That's what he told you? And you listened?" 

"I cannot remember which came first," snapped Klavier, bristling a little. "From my view, both happened around the same time. And the only reason I thought Kristoph was trying to hit _me_ was because you said so." 

Apollo took a slow breath. "Okay. Listen carefully. What did your brother do after he hit me?" 

"What should it matter what he did _after_?" 

Apollo gave him that piercing look. "He wiped his fingerprints off the bottle and walked away. He walked away, Klavier. He didn't ask if you were all right; he didn't try to make me get away from you."

"My brother has- difficulty, sometimes, displaying the correct emotions-" 

"Klavier, as far as I'm concerned, your brother doesn't ca-" Apollo coughed, hesitated. "He was not, ah, concerned about your well-being." 

The words Apollo had stopped himself from saying were like a weight on his breastbone. "Maybe I was supposed to do something, then. He said I should have called. I should have done something differently last night, too. I shouldn't have doubted him." 

"Do you realize-" 

"Of course he must feel hurt and betrayed." Things were starting to make sense in Klavier's head again. "It is perfectly justifiable on his part. After all, I-" 

"Listen to yourself!" Apollo reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You have to stop! You didn't do _anything_ wrong. And you can't trust anything he says, all right? This is why I told you not to talk to him." 

"He's my brother. And you're-" 

"I'm your friend," said Apollo, and then flushed a little. "Well, I think. Listen, he doesn't treat you like a brother. Why do the same for him?" 

"Well," said Klavier, then paused. Treat him like a brother. What did that even mean? The only example he could think of… 

…was Apollo, of course, Apollo watching out for Trucy, Apollo getting angry on her behalf, Apollo being embarrassed by her affection, Apollo arguing with her, Apollo defending her to his last breath. 

Apollo had only known Trucy for two years. 

Kristoph had been with Klavier since his _birth_. 

"Ja, Herr Forehead," Klavier said slowly, "I suppose you are a little bit right." 

"Of course I'm right," said Apollo, and leaned down and hugged him. It was a supremely awkward hug, for Klavier was still sitting, and even though Apollo was the one initiating it he was still stiffening up with his arm draped loosely around Klavier's shoulders. Klavier had to smother a giddy laugh, and started to reach up to put his arms around him, but Apollo was already backing away. 

"Um. So." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you… going to want to go back to your apartment tonight?" 

Klavier thought, Daryan? And then, _Apollo_. 

"Nein."

"Okay," said Apollo, and Klavier thought he looked slightly relieved. He didn't to be alone either, not the night before his sister's trial. 

"I've decided what I'm going to do. It's almost four o'clock, so I'm going to hurry and register as Trucy's attorney." Apollo sighed. "I don't think she would have accepted anything else, anyway." 

Privately Klavier agreed. "And my brother?" 

"I'll just tell him that, if he comes at me. Hopefully… hopefully he doesn't decide to do anything about it for now. And I won't accept Mr. Wright's offer, either. I don't see how I can." 

"Ach." He shouldn't have felt as happy about this as he did. "You have something in your favor that they do not, ja? You have your 'special ability.'" 

"Yeah, sure, that might help." Apollo sighed again, tiredly. "I'm going to go to the detention center now to talk to Trucy. I'll give you my address…?" 

"Yes, if you give me back my phone." 

"Oh, um, right." Apollo fumbled in his pocket- when had the phone ended up _there_?- and handed it back to Klavier. "Sorry about earlier." 

"I think, Herr Forehead, you may have done the right thing." 

Apollo gave him a lopsided little smile. "So. I'll be back later?" 

"You tell me," said Klavier, favoring him with a smile of his own, and Apollo, to his credit, only blushed a little.  

Two things were running through Klavier's mind, as he watched the crimson attorney preparing to leave. The first was wondering how different the day would have gone if Apollo had not been there to take his phone away. 

The second was how much he wished that those two hugs had had a little more _skin_ in them.


	13. Chapter 13

Klavier was glad he had looked up the area around the address Apollo had given him ahead of time, because he was dressed far too flashily to be safe that part of town. It was a bit of a shock, because if anyone looked like a moving target, it was red-suited Apollo Justice. Then again, Apollo would have to be somewhat familiar with the sort of people who populated those areas if he ever expected to get anywhere as a defense attorney. Perhaps he was a bit tougher than he appeared. Kristoph had implied that Apollo had had a poor upbringing, but there were a range of different things that could mean by Klavier's estimation. He realized he knew so little, about Apollo's past, or anything, really. 

He wanted to get the hotel room back, make Apollo stay there, and swim in the hot tub with him. What sort of swim trunks would Apollo even wear? Red ones, probably, or something equally lurid. 

He was thinking foolish thoughts. His head was still addled by the physical contact he'd gotten- gotten, not given. It made him crave more. He wanted to press close, skin against skin, everything touching, everything warm. He wanted to wrap his arms around and press both palms flat against the skin on Apollo's back. 

Klavier shivered. He was standing in the lobby of Apollo's apartment building, trying to decide if he wanted to risk taking the ancient-looking elevator- it even had a rusty-looking scissor gate that he had absolutely no idea how to operate- or use the stairs. He opted for the stairs, since Apollo was only on the third floor, and breathed shallowly as each step released a strong smell of mildew from the mottled carpet. 

The time he'd spent alone that day had given him an opportunity to think about what a terrible idea it was to go to Apollo's apartment. He could even list the reasons why he was being an utter moron: 

Reason one, Daryan. He was going to get suspicious. When he'd gone back to his place for a change of clothes and various other necessities, he'd also had to inform his bandmate that he might not be returning home that night. The lie he'd fed him was that he was staying with Kristoph in the hopes of digging up some evidence of wrongdoing; that, as expected, had prompted a nasty grin. It wasn't as if Daryan would ever call to check with his brother, but he was very good at smelling out Klavier's doubts and lies, and he could only throw him off track for so long. Of course, he wasn't even as the same league as Apollo in that category. 

Reason two, Kristoph. He had hung up on Kristoph. Kristoph knew he was with Apollo. He was going to deliberately go against Kristoph's wishes. He was still not sure if Kristoph had actually tried to kill him or not. He was still not sure if Apollo was just a gigantic liar or not. If he looked at it objectively, the concept of a defense attorney he barely knew and regularly insulted trying to save his life with a magic lie-detecting ability sounded much more far-fetched than the concept that his brother would _not_ try to kill him. That was what he was supposed to do, as a prosecutor- look at things objectively. At the evidence. The passion and gut feelings were supposed to be for the defense attorneys. But it didn't stop his palms from feeling cold when he remembered his brother's voice in his ear. 

Reason three. Apollo. 

Apollo was like a flush of red across his nervous system, clouding his senses and making him dizzyingly giddy. Getting closer to him was like taking a drug- it felt very, very good at the time, but there would be quite a few consequences in the aftermath. 

Also, Apollo was the defense attorney for the case he was prosecuting tomorrow, and if spending the night with him didn't count as a violation of conduct, then the Gavinners were a one-hit wonder. 

Somehow none of these reasons really made him hesitate when he knocked on Apollo's door. 

It took a moment for Apollo to answer, just long enough for Klavier to spare a passing, wistful thought for his motorcycle, parked in what he thought was the most shielded-looking visitor's spot in the parking lot. He sent it a little mental prayer of safety. 

Apollo opened the door, and to Klavier's surprise he was not wearing his red suit, but was rather dressed casually in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. It was actually delightful to see him that way, considering Klavier had not been able to imagine him wearing anything _but_ the guise of Apollo Justice, overly-serious defense attorney, and considering the way his t-shirt clung to his shoulders and chest. He wondered if he could convince him to wear the skintight black-and-purple Gavinners shirt if he bought one for him. 

"Hi," said Apollo. His jaw was jutting slightly, and his forehead was wrinkled already as he gazed at Klavier, who had done his best to dress un-flashy- his only purple jacket without the Gavinners' logo plastered all over it and his most sensible leather pants. 

"May I come in?" Klavier prompted, after Apollo had just stood there and stared for a moment. "Or do you exact a toll first?" 

"Oh, uh, no," said Apollo, rubbing his temple with one knuckle. "Come inside." 

Klavier did, eyeing Apollo's stiff back as he led the way. He gazed around the inside of the apartment with considerable interest. For the most part it was plain, and neat- though neat in a way he suspected was recent and superficial, considering the divide between the shining floor and the dusty area underneath the couch and the rumpled heap of clothes poking out from the half-open closet door. He assumed that the other door he saw went to the bedroom- or was it the bathroom? There was one, wasn't there? The kitchen and living room were mushed together, divided by a low counter. A tired-looking couch sat in front of a low table with a stack of textbooks on it. No television, unless it was tucked away in Apollo's bedroom. Or the mysterious bathroom, wherever it was. 

Apollo glanced back at him and Klavier tried to dredge up something to comment on, aside from "This is the tiniest dwelling I have ever visited." 

"Nice literature, Herr Forehead." 

"What?" Apollo swung around to follow his gaze, and pinked slightly. Klavier was nodding at the textbooks, which all had intimidating titles such as _Learning Evidence: From the Federal Rules to the Courtroom_ or _Understanding Contractual and Tortious Obligations._  

"I see you have kept up with your studies." 

"Well, there was no point in throwing them out once I passed the bar, was there?" Apollo shrugged. "They're a good reference. Have you eaten?" 

Klavier blinked at the sudden subject change. Apollo seemed unusually twitchy this evening. 

"Lightly. Why, are you cooking?" 

"I have pasta. Or, I mean, I'm making it. Now. It's not fancy." His tone was blunt, and his jaw jutted in a way that was more pronounced than before. Klavier decided to treat him gently for the moment, until he figured out what had him so wound up. 

"I enjoy pasta, Herr Forehead, plain or fancy." 

"Okay. You can clear the table. It's almost ready. But I mean it, don't expect anything fancy." Apollo retreated into the little kitchenette as he spoke, and Klavier looked at the couch, realizing that that little table would also be their dining table. Of course, there was no dining area or anything like that in an apartment this small. 

"Where do you want me to put the books?" 

"Just on the shelf," Apollo said from the kitchen, where he was furiously stirring a steaming pot. 

Klavier obeyed and placed the books best he could on the already-busy set of shelves near the wall. Apollo had quite the collection of ancient and battered law textbooks, as well as an impressive number of _Steel Samurai_ comics on the bottom shelf, partially and perhaps desperately obscured by an upright-standing textbook. 

Ah. Now he understood. Apollo was nervous. About him being there. 

He smiled and selected a recent issue- _Steel Samurai #131_ \- to read while Apollo finished cooking. 

"You're a Steel Samurai fan?" 

Klavier glanced up. He'd been in the midst of a thrilling if sloppily drawn battle between the titular samurai and a cadre of Magistrate thugs. 

"No, I have always been partial to Global Hero Oyankopan, myself. Still, one always has to appreciate the classics, ja?" 

"I would have thought you'd be a fan of the Jammin' Ninja," said Apollo, setting a steaming plate in front of him. 

"I was," Klavier admitted, getting up to return the comic to the shelf. "But certain events soured his image, as I suspect you know." 

"Yeah," said Apollo, sitting down on the couch. "I remember watching the news. But you must have been what, ten years old when that case happened?" 

"Nein." 

"Nine, ten, same difference," said Apollo, shrugging, and Klavier blinked. "Gosh, that was a long time ago. I was fourteen and just starting to think about law school. It was the first time I ever really paid attention to a case. Mr. Wright was just… incredible." His eyes seemed to grow a bit misty as he remembered. Klavier went to sit beside him, half-amused and half-irritated, and glanced at the pasta. It really was simple- spaghetti, sauce that he suspected had come from a can, and a side of steamed broccoli. 

"This looks delicious," he told Apollo, and immediately Apollo went all stiff again. 

"I don't have much of a budget to work with here, so that's the best I could do. I thought about ordering out-" 

"I wasn't being sarcastic, Herr Forehead," Klavier told him, twirling a bite on his fork. "I love spaghetti." 

"Oh." 

"Do you have anything to drink with this?" 

"Right, drinks," said Apollo, springing up, and darted to the kitchen. Klavier stifled a snicker. Spaghetti had never been particularly high on his list of favorites, but he was certain he could learn to crave it. 

Cups were clattering on the counter when Apollo spoke next. "I have water, and, uh, chocolate milk. For Trucy." 

"Water is fine. I don't want to be distracted from the taste of this lovely meal." 

"Oh shut up, Klavier." 

Klavier chuckled out loud this time, and took his bite. It tasted exactly like it looked; slightly overcooked spaghetti with canned sauce. 

"It's good," he told Apollo when he had reemerged with two glasses of water. 

"Sure, if you say so," said Apollo, sinking back into the couch beside him. "I wasn't sure whether you would've eaten or not, so I didn't try to make anything more complicated." 

"Why should I want anything more complicated?" Klavier said, between bites. Apollo gave him a slightly buggy-eyed look. He wasn't sure if this was in reference to his statement or to the speed and ferocity with which he ate. 

"You know," Apollo said, picking more delicately at his own plate, "I thought it was funny, because when we first had lunch together at Mr. Gavin's office, you barely ate anything, and you ate really slowly. But today and yesterday night you've been eating like a machine." 

Klavier paused to wipe the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and smiled. 

"I have a habit of eating carefully in front of my brother. When I was a child, he tried to teach me manners by taking away my food whenever I ate too fast. But it backfired- instead of learning manners I just learned to wolf down my food when he was not around, and pick at it when he was." He laughed again, expecting Apollo to join in, but Apollo was staring at him with a serious look on his face. 

"That's terrible!" 

"It was a childish thing to do," Klavier said, uncomfortable, "but no one ever suffered real damage by going to bed without dinner for a couple nights. It's funny when I think about it now, ja?" 

Apollo declined to comment on that, still staring at him. After a moment he said, "You can have as much spaghetti as you want." 

"Thanks, Herr Forehead, but I think that this will be enough," said Klavier, staring down at his plate.  

They were silent for a while, a sudden strain in the air between them. Klavier continued on his dinner halfheartedly, previous vigor gone, and felt Apollo's eyes on him. 

"So," he said, finally deciding to bite the bullet and discuss the inevitable, "did you speak with my brother?" 

Now Apollo twitched and stared down at _his_ plate. 

"Yes." 

"Yes…?" 

"He seemed to be fine with it when I told him what Trucy said. He laughed." Apollo's hand went to tug at a nonexistent tie at his throat before he caught himself. "He wants to be there to supervise me, he said." 

Klavier's blood ran cold at the thought, but he said, "Naturally. Of course he will want to be there." 

"If I could convince him not to without jeopardizing Trucy, I'd-" 

"No, this is good," said Klavier, twirling his fork in the air. "We want him close by anyway, don't we?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"In case we have to call him as a witness, of course." 

Apollo's eyes widened. "On what pretext could we do that?" 

"Well, you are suspicious about evidence, but-" and here Klavier jabbed his fork playfully towards Apollo's nose "-I want to know what Fräulein Trucy was like directly after the murder. She went straight to my brother's office to look for you, did she not?" 

Apollo looked cross-eyed at the bridge of his nose, where the tines of Klavier's fork were now resting. "Uh, yes, she did. Good point. What are you doing?" 

"Plotting my case, of course." Klavier withdrew his utensil and licked off a fleck of sauce. "If you have suspicions about my brother and this case, I will have him take the stand. The rest is up to you." 

"That's great and all, but how am I supposed to cross-examine _my boss_ , who also happens to be blackmailing me?" 

"Easy," said Klavier. "Don't do it unless you are sure you have enough evidence to get him arrested. For forgery." 

"Uh-huh. Easy. Right." 

"It's a gamble, but I thought you should have the opportunity," said Klavier, shrugging. "By the way, this reminds me that I have something to give to you." 

"What?" Apollo watched with a furrowed brow as Klavier bent over the sofa arm to rummage through the small overnight bag he'd brought with him. "Not more evidence against Trucy, I hope." 

"Nein, nein, though I think that this does belong to the Fräulein," said Klavier, straightening, and handed Apollo a long string of connected handkerchiefs, the colorful sort used in magic acts. "I found this hanging out my window." 

Apollo bunched it up in his hands as Klavier continued to pull more of it out of his bag. "Gosh, how long _is_ this? No wonder she thought she could get down from the third floor! It's a miracle it didn't rip!" 

"It would not rip. Don't you feel it?" Klavier tugged lightly on his end. "There is something threaded inside and through the center. I suspect it is piano wire. You can count on the Fräulein to always have another trick up her sleeve." 

Apollo sighed. "I'll give it back to her tom- I guess whenever she gets out of jail." His expression was wan as he looked at the fabric threaded through his fingers. "Assuming, of course, that I don't ruin everything tomorrow." 

"Cheer up, Herr Forehead, I am sure you will at least be able to put up a good fight," Klavier said, patting him on the cheek. "Ja, but your opposition is tough, so who can say?" 

"Ha ha." Apollo gave him a sidelong glance. "That wasn't all I talked to Mr. Gavin about on the phone, you know. He seemed more interested in talking about you." 

"Who can blame him?" said Klavier, shrugging airily, expression calm. "What did he say?" 

"He wanted to know why I was with you in the afternoon, and he wanted to know if you were still going to take the case." 

"And what did you say?" 

"I said you were taking the case, of course, and…" Apollo hesitated, unconsciously twisting the fabric around his fingers. "I tried to make it seem like you believed what he said. About Trucy being guilty, and about me lying." He glanced Klavier's way again. "Which you… really don't believe, right?" 

"Considerably less than my brother would like," said Klavier, fiddling with his bangs. Apollo's hand was on his wrist, and he looked rather tense for a moment, and then relaxed. 

"I guess it doesn't matter, does it." 

"Hmm?" 

"You're still the prosecutor either way. Your job is to prove that she's guilty. It's not a matter of what you do or don't believe." 

"True," said Klavier, "though I also have less of an interest in just proving her guilty, and more in… hmm… uncovering the truth? We both know that there are several things that remain unclear, and I for one do not intend to let the trial end until we have satisfactory answers to them." 

Apollo was looking at him, eyes wide and surprised. After a moment he smiled. 

"You're right." 

"Ja, of course I am right." 

Apollo was still smiling. "You know, you saying that reminds me of Mr. Wright and that prosecutor, Mr. Edgeworth. Like the time they worked together on the Engarde trial. Mr. Wright lost that one, so it seems strange that it would be what inspired me to become a defense attorney, but… It was like they were a team, you know? And it wasn't about winning or losing, but something more…" 

He trailed off. 

"Klavier?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Your arm is around my shoulders." 

"Ach, is it?" 

"Klavier." 

"Herr Forehead, you are much too tense." 

"Klavier, this euro-physical-friendly thing is cute and all, but really-" 

"What if I am reaching out for physical contact because I am an emotionally scarred individual whose only family has deserted him? I am a pitiful waif, ja?" 

Apollo gave him a stare, the look on his face immeasurably appalled. Klavier took the opportunity to close the last few centimeters of space between them on the sofa so that their thighs touched. 

Apollo said, "That is both despicable and-" 

"Ja, all right, it is not something to joke about," said Klavier, retreating slightly, but Apollo froze him with a glare. 

"And it's _true_ though, isn't it?" Apollo grabbed his shoulder, gaze still hard. "So yeah, don't joke about it. Please." 

Klavier found himself unable to say anything, still frozen, feeling the warm and too-hard pressure on his shoulder slowly recede. Apollo got up abruptly and picked up his plate. 

"I'm going to clean up. If you want to stay overnight, the sofa's a pullout bed. Clean sheets are in the closet." 

He swiped Klavier's half-finished plate and retreated. Klavier heard him start vigorously clattering dishes in the sink behind him a moment later. It still took him a moment to recover enough to speak. 

"Do you know, Herr Forehead, I've never actually slept on a pullout couch before?" 

"Yeah, what a surprise," Apollo snapped from behind him. Klavier rose and went to lean on the low counter, staring at Apollo, who was flushed and not meeting his eyes, elbow-deep in suds. 

"Herr Justice, do you think that I look down on you because I come from a wealthy family?" 

Apollo barked out a laugh, and punctuated his words with savage scrubbing motions. "Just because your _brother_ -" bang, clatter "-could just _casually offer_ to take in me and Trucy-" thunk, splash "-like supporting two people for a few years was like taking in a- a-" The suds, which had been rising dangerously, wobbled with the violence of his scrubbing. "Like a pair of hamsters! And you- all those _stupid_ expensive clothes and that stupid motorcycle and _booking us a hotel room_ and you think I think you look down on me in my stupid, tiny, dirty apartment-" 

"Herr Justice, you are overflowing," said Klavier, and Apollo jumped and lifted a soapy hand to hastily turn off the water, which was trickling out of the sink down on the cabinet and floor. 

"Sorry." 

"Well, it was more a concern for you getting your shoes wet-" 

"No, I mean sorry about what I said. Forget it." Apollo rubbed the back of his neck with a soapy hand. "I'm just… tense. About the trial tomorrow." 

"Well, you will at least have a very clean neck now." 

"Shut up. I hate you." 

Klavier smiled and whisked the dishtowel from where it was hanging on the corner of a cabinet door. 

" _Bitte,_ try to be still a moment." 

"Could you not-" Apollo tensed up and grimaced as Klavier gently wiped the suds off his neck. "Okay. Thanks." 

"Your hands, too." 

"I'm not done with the dishes!" 

"Herr Justice, the dishes have been scrubbed so thoroughly I would be surprised if they even still existed under there. Now, your hands." 

Apollo gave him an extremely disgruntled look and held out his hands, like a schoolboy expecting a smack from a ruler. Klavier carefully toweled them dry, up to his elbows. 

"Ja, now that you are dry, you may help me pull out this couch. Because I have no idea how to do it." 

"You probably don't even know how to put _sheets_ on, either." 

"Of course I know that," said Klavier, taking on an insulted tone, and grabbed Apollo's arm before he could touch his bracelet. "Come on, _bitte_ , help me. We must go to bed soon and be well-rested for the trial tomorrow." 

"It's only nine-thirty!" 

"Yes, but I do not know how long it takes to pull out a bed- for such a transformation, it must take hours, ja? Which is why we must hurry." 

Apollo allowed himself to be towed over to the couch, rolling his eyes. "You're an idiot." 

"An idiot! Herr Forehead, I am a fragile flower, remember? Do not be cruel to me." 

At this Apollo gave him a hard stare and Klavier froze again, afraid he'd gone too far. 

"Take the cushions off." 

"Eh?" 

"I said, take the cushions off. That's the first thing you need to do to pull out a couch. _Idiot_." 

"But if I take off the couch cushions, won't it be too hard to sleep on?" Apollo was eyeing him, and Klavier realized he was smiling a little too giddily. "It sounds very uncomfortable." 

"Klavier. The cushions are not what you sleep on. There is a mattress _under_ them. You have to pull it out. Hence the term _pull-out couch_." 

"I still don't understand. Show me." 

Apollo gave an exaggerated sigh and bent over to tug at the cushions, and Klavier took the opportunity to drape himself against his back, slinging an arm over his shoulders again. 

Apparently Apollo had not been expecting this sudden contact, because he said something along the lines of "Aargh!" and fell forward onto the couch. Klavier fell with him, unintentionally but not entirely unwillingly, chest against Apollo's back. 

"Damn it, Klavier!" 

"Sorry," said Klavier, unmoving, as Apollo squirmed. He was pleasantly warm. "To be fair, I did not expect you to react so… dramatically." 

Apollo huffed and managed to flip himself over, so that Klavier found his head resting on his stomach and his arms tightening around Apollo's waist. Apollo looked down at him, expression changing into a frown. 

"Does this…" He hesitated, as Klavier turned his head to the side and inhaled slowly. "Does this, uh, help you?" 

"Yes," said Klavier, quicker than he should have. "More than you know." 

"Okay." 

Apollo was holding still now. Klavier swallowed. 

"Though I do not- it does not- I would not be helped if you did not want me to do this." 

Apollo took a moment to answer. Klavier raised his eyes and saw him looking thoughtful. His hair was finally beginning to come loose from its carefully molded shape, springing free from the back, that ridiculous cowlick starting to separate into hanging strands. 

"I don't _really_ mind. Trucy likes to be hugged, too." 

"Oh," said Klavier. "That's good." 

"Did you just sound _sad_ , Klavier?" 

Klavier looked up at him again and felt a strange thrill. Did Apollo know more than he was letting on? The thought gave him as much fear as it did hope. 

Apollo looked back at him for a long moment, and Klavier thought, _He does know something, he knows, he must know everything_ , and couldn't stop himself from shivering slightly. 

Apollo flicked his eyes away and said, "Look, you can hug me or whatever, but please _ask_ , all right? You can't just keep jumping me like this." 

"I'm sorry," said Klavier, looking down again, wondering. For a moment he'd been absolutely certain that Apollo was aware of the way he felt about him, but now he was less sure. How aware was Apollo Justice of _his_ feelings, anyway, when he had his sister's trial to worry about, and his brother's threats to fear. He tried to get up but for some reason his arms just tightened. 

"Ungh- I need room to breathe, Klavier." 

He loosened his grip, and allowed himself to lay there for a moment, head rising and falling slightly on Apollo's stomach as he breathed. Apollo was so warm and solid. He smelled- well, he smelled a little bit like cheap men's deodorant, but there was a hint of something it couldn't fully cover up, a hint of masculinity, and Klavier rather liked that. Liked it better than the smell of cologne, anyway. That made him think of Borgnia. 

He imagined himself saying, "I want to touch you, Apollo Justice," and what Apollo's reaction would be like. Likely something stupid, such as, "But you're already touching me!" 

 _No, Apollo, I want to really touch you, on your skin, on your shoulders, on your chest, I want to run my hands across you. I want to feel all of you, I want to see you get aroused, I want to see you look at me differently, I want to see you looking at me while I touch you, I want to see what expression is on your face. I want to feel your skin heat up underneath my fingers. I want to kiss you, lips, neck, chest, nipples, stomach… I want to suck you off. I want to suck you off, and I want you to watch me do it, and I want to watch you watching me sucking you off._  

Imagine saying that to Apollo Justice: "Herr Justice, I would like to suck you off." "Permission to go down on you, Herr Forehead." " _Bitte_ , allow me to wrap my lips around your cock." 

He smothered a laugh into Apollo's stomach at his own thoughts. 

"What's so funny?" 

"Nothing," he said, too quickly again, and pulled away. "Herr Forehead, we really need to stop getting distracted and figure out this pullout couch business." 

Apollo sat up as well, and Klavier realized the position they were in, with him sitting on his knees straddling Apollo, and scrambled away to to slide ungracefully off the couch. His shoulder bumped the little table painfully. 

Apollo sat up fully, frowning. "What the heck are you doing? Are you okay?" 

Klavier rolled his shoulder and grimaced. "I am fine. I seem to have misjudged something." He accepted Apollo's hand and let himself be helped up, though he couldn't quite find it in himself to meet his gaze yet. "Shall we tackle this couch?" 

"Let's not do it the same way this time." 

"Ha. You are funny when you try, Herr Forehead." 

Together they moved the table and cushions and pulled out the reluctant, creaking bedframe, Klavier professing his admiration that a _whole mattress_ could actually be squeezed down in there like that. 

"And it even feels like an actual bed, ja? What mad genius designed this, Herr Einstein?" 

Apollo tolerated his candor and helped him put on the sheets, which meant Klavier just stood holding one side of them while Apollo went round and aggressively tucked everything in. 

"There. You should be pretty comfortable. Hang on, let me find you a pillow." 

"Ah, before you go, I have a very important question for you." 

Apollo straightened, rubbing a fist against the small of his back. 

"Yes?" 

"Where exactly is your bathroom? You do have one, don't you?" 

He was lucky Apollo was in a pleasant enough mood to just roll his eyes at this. "Yes, Klavier, I have one. Walk through the closet, it's on the left." 

"Ah! I never would have guessed. Very devious." 

"I'm getting your pillow. Get changed or whatever." Apollo flapped a hand at him and disappeared into his bedroom. Klavier eyed him as he left, then picked up his back and slipped through the closet. A bathroom- a tiny one- was indeed on the left. What a peculiar layout. 

He flicked on the light and looked at himself in the mirror for a moment. He was somewhat disheveled after their little adventure on the couch, furthermore, his expression was unguarded and eager. He was in very deep trouble. And for what? Imagining what Apollo's face might look like when he came was nothing but a pointless distraction from the real troubles, like the trial tomorrow, like what was happening with his brother. 

He was frightened, though, because even thought he thought these sane, logical thoughts, his desire did not diminish in the slightest. This had not happened for a long time, not since he had harbored a secret and foolish crush for Daryan, before and even a while after Daryan had shown him exactly what he thought of that kind of behavior. 

" _Hör auf_ ," he murmured aloud, to his reflection. "Stop it." 

He was sleeping in Apollo's home, just a few steps away from him, eating his food, breathing his same air. And they would leave tomorrow to be on opposite sides of the same trial. One of them would have to leave first- wouldn't it look strange, the defense and the prosecution arriving together at the same time? And Klavier would have to act like he wanted to put Apollo's little sister in jail for life or worse tomorrow. That was not likely to land him any closer to the goal of getting Apollo's pants down. 

He smothered a rather desperate laugh, and took his toothbrush out of his bag to lay it next to the sink. One thing was very clear: there was no escaping his current situation. And he did not want to.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to get out- you can blame my new job for that one.

"Klavier." 

He had been waiting in the lobby, mind still muddled in a thousand pleasant ways from the night spent at Apollo's apartment, and his brother's voice came from behind him and took him entirely unawares. 

He turned and saw Kristoph standing beside him. Just standing, with his arms folded. It did not seem possible that he could have been standing there the whole time, since the room had been empty when Klavier had walked in, and he'd been facing the door, but Kristoph had a way about being noticed only when he deemed it necessary. 

Looking at his face, with the faint smile he wore upon his lips, Klavier that familiar twinge, the suspicion that this situation was, in fact, all his own fault, his own mistake, and Kristoph would have to make him pay for it. 

"Guten tag, mein bruder," he said. "It seems you are not defending today, after all." 

Kristoph's expression was rueful as he shook his head. 

"I'm afraid not. The girl was quite insistent on having Justice defend her. While I can appreciate the sentiment, with his lack of experience it is more than a little foolish." 

"Ja, poor thing," said Klavier. "She may well already be in chains." 

"Poor thing, hmm…? Have a soft spot for her, do you?" 

"Don't be silly," said Klavier, licking his lips, as his mouth had started to go dry. "She deserves to be punished for what she has _undoubtedly_ done. It is just a trifle sad, ja?" 

"Indeed." Kristoph adjusted his glasses. "By the way, what were you doing with Justice yesterday?" 

For a moment Klavier's mind went blank, his thoughts racing- _He knows, he knows everything, what we spoke about, how I feel_ \- but Kristoph was still talking. 

"He was the one who hung up on me, wasn't he? He sounded angry." 

"Ah- ach. Ja. I am sorry about that, bruder. I meant to call you back, but I forgot." 

"No harm done, though I must admit I was a little worried." 

"Of course. I am sorry." Best not to mention that he already knew Kristoph had spoken to Apollo about the incident. "He came to visit me to speak about the case, but when I implied that I thought his sister was guilty, he was quite upset. Add to that whatever foolish suspicions he still has about you, and well…" 

"I see. So he still harbors those same doubts." 

Klavier flicked his bangs away from his eyes and laughed. "Yes! He is so adamant that it is funny. I told him that there was no way he could convince me that you had attacked me, but he persists. I even tried to speak to him gently, to get him to admit what he had done, but he is so _flighty_! I do not know how you ever managed to deal with him, bruder." 

Kristoph laughed as well. "He can be a handful at times, to be truthful, and it has been getting worse lately. It makes me wonder it the time isn't coming for me to terminate him." 

Klavier's throat stuck together for a moment. "Terminate him? You mean…" 

"Fire him, of course. I cannot tolerate that sort of attack on my dear younger brother." In a swift, sudden motion he reached out and touched Klavier's cheek, and Klavier seized up. His brother's fingertips were warm against his jawline. 

"I've been worried about you, Klavier." 

He could smell his brother now, which was odd, because Kristoph didn't even have a smell, really; just a blankness, which Klavier knew he crafted intentionally with a careful mix of soap and colognes. Kristoph was disgusted by smells, whether they be the cloying scent of deodorant or the masculine scent of his own body. But Klavier could smell something, just a little- a hint of something sweet, and underneath that a chemical undertone that prickled inside his nose. 

Kristoph was speaking gently. Klavier could feel the tips of his fingernails against his skin as his brother cupped his cheek.

"You've been acting so peculiar since you returned from Borgnia. I've been wondering if it is because you find your new job stressful. I know it is hard, being the youngest at the prosecutor's office. Is anyone troubling you?" 

Klavier could not move away from that touch. "N-nein, no, no one has…" 

"Aside from Justice, you mean." 

"Well-" 

"I think he is jealous. To see someone so talented, so much _younger_ than him…" Finally Kristoph withdrew his hand, resuming his crossed arms. "I suppose one can't blame him for it entirely. You are an impressive figure to match up against. But you are a prosecutor. There was no need for him to try and compete for my attention." Kristoph was shaking his head again. Klavier licked his lips. 

"Bruder, the time…" 

"Yes, I know. We'll be starting soon, and I must return to give Justice my advice." He shrugged. "I must admit that my heart is less in it now than it might have been, but for the girl's sake I will try to help him." 

"I do not think it will matter much, will it?" Klavier's attempt at confidence sounded shaky even to his own ears. Kristoph smiled at him. 

"Even if I am not the defense, I am still very pleased to have an opportunity to watch you in court today, Klavier. You will do well." 

Klavier nodded mutely, and Kristoph turned to go, but paused with his hand on the lobby doorknob. 

"A word of advice, Klavier. Don't let me or anyone else catch you fraternizing so much with the defense before a trial." He turned slowly, his eyes glittering and hard above his still-gentle smile. "I shouldn't have to remind you that people might come to the conclusion that you are planning something." 

"Obviously," said Klavier. "It was of course not my intention to spend any time with Herr Forehead at all. Such a loud, raspy voice grates on my nerves, ja?" 

Kristoph chuckled, shaking his head, and went through the door, which closed softly behind him. 

A second later Klavier sank into a crouch on the tiled floor, shivering.

 

* * *

 

It was day one of State vs Gramarye- the second State vs Gramarye, to be exact, as Trucy's father had been on trial not three days ago. Apollo had rudely woken him up at six in the morning and ordered him to leave so they would arrive at the courthouse separately. It was a logical step, one Klavier had even considered the night before, but being woken up early was one of the few things that got in a truly foul mood. He'd lunged at Apollo's waist for vengeance but alas, Apollo seemed to be a morning person, and was both quick and loud with his disapproval. 

He had managed to compose himself since then, settling all his mental notes and plans in order for the trial, and had even been moderately looking forward to it until Kristoph had shown up and more or less shattered his nerves. 

That hadn't been his brother's intention- at least, he didn't _think_ it had been. He'd even encouraged Klavier, hadn't he? Though he had also added that last dig about Klavier fraternizing with the defense too much. What was his goal, anyway? _Would_ he really be trying to get Trucy a not guilty verdict? Or was he planning to use this as a means to punish Apollo for defying him? That in itself was not a stretch for Klavier to envision- even before what had happened… happened, he knew his brother to be a vindictive and petty man. 

If Apollo lost today, not only would his sister be punished with prison or worse, but it would be a bad mark on his record as a new attorney. Add to that if Kristoph went through with firing him as he'd suggested, and Apollo's prospects and future would be driven into the ground. 

Then again, if Klavier lost today, he could hardly bear to think about what Kristoph's reaction would be like. 

He was less than composed by the time he found himself standing behind the bench, watching the audience file in. He was certain it didn't show, at least, for he'd adopted his stage persona, which seeing the audience helped with; humming, snapping his fingers, careless grin. If he had to, he could burst out into passionate song right there and then. They'd love it. He would love to see what the look on Apollo's face would be. 

Speaking of which, Apollo himself had arrived, looking typically over-serious, clutching his stack of documents to him like they were humanity's last hope. For him, they probably were. Klavier wondered if he'd managed to get any sleep at all the night before. 

He was glad he'd opted to put on his shades, because Kristoph entered immediately afterwards, as calm and collected as ever. He gave Klavier a small nod of acknowledgement before taking his place beside Apollo. Klavier kept his smile pasted on. 

"All rise," said the bailiff, as the Judge entered the room, hiking up his robes as he climbed the stairs to his podium. Behind him came Ema, her hand on the shoulder of a pale but determined-looking Trucy Gramarye. 

As Ema escorted her to the defendant's chair, Klavier saw Trucy catch Apollo's gaze and hold it for a moment. Was that fear in her eyes? No, surely not, for the next second she flashed him a bright smile and sat down. 

Klavier looked back over at Apollo and saw that his fists were clenched and trembling upon the bench. 

"You may be seated," said the bailiff, and the audience sat down en masse. 

The judge cleared his throat, sparing Trucy a solemn glance. "Court is now in session for the trial of Trucy Gramarye. Is the prosecution ready?" 

"Herr Judge, are _you_ ready? It's going to be quite a show." Klavier grinned out into the audience, hearing a few smothered titters. 

The judge blinked at him for a moment. "I presume that means you _are_ ready, Mr. Gavin. And the defense? You're a new face, young man." 

"Yes," said Apollo, staring at Klavier in a kind of appalled amazement, before he suddenly snapped to attention. "I mean, yes, sir! I'm fi- I'm ready!!" 

"No need to shout, Mr.… Justice, was it?" The judge was shuffling through his papers, frowning. "Your first trial, is it?" 

"Yes, sir, it is." 

"Ah, and is that Kristoph Gavin I see next to you?" 

"Yes," said Kristoph. "Justice here works at my office. I have high hopes for him." His smile seemed genuine. 

"I see," said the judge, blinking. "If I remember correctly, the prosecution's surname is also Gavin. What a coincidence!" 

"It is a funny coincidence, isn't it," said Kristoph. 

"Herr Judge, may we get this show started?" said Klavier. "A Fräulein awaits her verdict, after all." 

"Hmm, yes, of course," said the judge, expression becoming somber once more. "Though it pains me to see such a lovely young lady in the defendant's chair. For the murder of… Valant Gramarye, was it?" He shook his head. "To think that he took the stand three days ago! What a shame." He closed his eyes, seeming deep in thought for a moment. 

"Your Honor…?" 

That had been Apollo. The judge's eyes snapped open. 

"Ouch!" 

"We all feel that way when we first hear Herr Forehead's voice, Your Honor," Klavier said sympathetically. 

"Wow, _thanks_." 

"Oh no, it's not that," said the judge. "I've just given myself a papercut on one of my documents." He sucked on his finger. 

"I see. I am sorry for your wound. However, might we…?" 

"Yes, of course, the trial." The judge popped his finger out of his mouth and coughed, reclaiming his dignity. "Mr. Gavin- er, that would be the more purplish Mr. Gavin on my left- please explain the charges."

"Of course," said Klavier, straightening. "Here are the facts of this case: three days ago, after Herr Gramarye- the pink Herr Gramarye- vanished from his trial, the Fräulein seated in the defendant's chair entered the hotel room where the yellow Herr Gramarye was staying. She then poisoned him." 

There were murmers from the galley. Apollo banged his fists on the table. 

" _Objection_!" 

The judge turned to look at him in surprise. "Mr. Justice, you have some issue with the facts?" 

Apollo wavered for a moment, seeming startled himself. "Uh… yes! Yes, I do! My client did not poison Mr. Gramarye! The er, yellow one, I mean!" 

"Herr Forehead, the judge knows you think that already," said Klavier. "That is why you are the defense, ja?" 

Apollo was blushing now, as the judge added, "Mr. Justice, there is no need to shout so loudly. My hearing is not _that_ bad." 

Kristoph leaned over and muttered something to Apollo, who slumped slightly. "Sorry, Your Honor." 

Klavier realized that Trucy was scowling at him, as if it was his fault Apollo had just embarrassed himself, and shrugged. With any luck the trial would be extended for another day by virtue of Apollo's fumbling alone. He was somewhat relieved to realize that he was growing steadily less nervous as the trial proceeded. This was his second stage, after all. He was meant to be here, in the courtroom. It didn't hurt that Kristoph was much more focused on Apollo than on him at the moment. 

"As long as that's cleared up," said the judge, settling back in his seat. "Mr. Gavin, you may call your first witness." He blinked. "My, that sounds odd!" 

"Ja, Herr Judge," said Klavier patiently. "Well then, let me call Detective Ema Skye to the stand." 

The judge nodded to the bailiff, but Ema was already walking up to the stand. She was snack-free today, Klavier noted. 

"If you would state your name and occupation, Fräulein?" 

"Ema Skye. Detective." The look she was giving him was more than unfriendly; Klavier wondered what he'd done to upset her this time. 

"Skye? I once knew a prosecutor named Skye!" exclaimed the judge. "There's another coincidence!" 

"Actually, Your Honor, she's my sister." 

"Your sister? The former chief prosecutor, Lana Skye?" The judge was blinking very rapidly now. "I see! And how is she doing?" 

"Very well, Your Honor. You know, she-" 

"Fräulein, let's stay on topic," said Klavier, and Ema flashed him a look of annoyance. 

"Yes, of course," said the judge. "Then, Ms. Skye- Detective Skye, that is- please proceed with the analysis of the crime scene." 

"All right," said Ema. "The victim was Valant Gramarye, age 44. His body was found by two police officers who were searching for him to take him." 

"Hang on a second," Apollo interrupted. "Detective Skye, what do you mean by 'take him in'?" 

"During Zak's trial, Mr. Wright brought up a few facts that made Valant look suspicious," Ema explained. 

"Though clearly, Herr Pink Gramarye is ultimately the guilty one," Klavier put in. 

"Objection! How do you figure that?" 

"Obviously, Herr Forehead, it's because he ran away." 

"But Valant Gramarye ran away too," Ema said, mouth twitching up into a smirk. "Didn't you notice, Prosecutor Gavin? As soon as he got off the stand, he snuck off. What with the whole IV fluid debacle, things were looking pretty bad for him." 

"Ja, but Herr Yellow Gramarye only went as far as his hotel room, didn't he?" 

Ema's smile dropped. 

"Continue with your testimony, Detective Skye," said the judge. "What was the state of the crime scene when the officers found the body?" 

"Actually, when they entered, Valant was still alive," said Ema. "He was in the midst of a seizure." 

"A seizure?" said Apollo, eyes flicking towards Trucy. 

"Yes, and he passed away seconds later," said Ema. "The autopsy revealed that he'd been poisoned with atroquinine, which is a slow-acting neurotoxin. For a low dose, it takes about fifteen minutes to attack the nervous system. At that point the victim usually has a violent seizure before dying." 

Apollo swallowed. Kristoph leaned over to murmur something into his ear. It did not seem to make him feel any better. 

Klavier looked over at Trucy, whose expression was set, her hands fisted in her lap. 

"The court accepts the autopsy report as evidence," the judge said gravely. "Would you like to cross-examine Detective Skye any further on these facts, Mr. Justice?" 

Apollo started to shake his head, then caught himself and said, "No, Your Honor." 

"Very well. Detective Skye, continue with your testimony about what evidence led you to arrest Miss Gramarye." 

"Right," said Ema, looking perceptibly unhappier. "First, we saw no sign of a struggle at the scene. This led us to believe that Valant was not forced to ingest the poison. Hotel staff gave us this image that was taken with one of their security cameras." 

On one of the large display monitors in the courtroom, the image Ema had shown them two days ago flicked into focus. It was as blurry as ever, but the most damning part of it was clear. 

"Is that… a top hat?" the judge asked, leaning forward to squint at it. 

"Yes," said Ema. "It corresponds with this top hat found at the scene, which belongs to Trucy Gramarye." 

"Objection!" shouted Apollo. "There's no proof that image was of Trucy. Valant and Zak Gramarye were both staying at that hotel and they both wear top hats!" 

"Well, there are clear photos of Valant Gramarye entering the building, so it can't be him," said Ema. "Whoever this was, they left before the police came and after Valant was given the poison. Remember, it's slow-acting." 

"Even if you eliminate Valant Gramarye, that still leaves one other person," Apollo said. 

"Objection," Klavier said. "You think it was Zak Gramarye?" 

"Yes- well, maybe," Apollo stammered. "Or anyone! Anyone could pick up a top hat and impersonate a Gramarye!" 

"Ja, of course they could," said Klavier, leaning forward. Kristoph caught his eye for a moment and he hesitated. 

"But that is not the only piece of evidence there is, is it, Fräulein Detective?" 

"No." Ema looked grim. "A mug was found along with the hat in the bushes next to the hotel entrance. This mug bore traces of atroquinine… and Trucy Gramarye's fingerprints." 

Muttering and rustling came from the galley, and the judge banged his gavel twice for silence. 

"This is grave evidence indeed," he said. "Mr. Justice, do you have anything to refute this?" 

"Of course I do," said Apollo, though he looked awfully nervous to Klavier's eye. "Detective Skye, can you bring out that photo again?" 

"Sure," said Ema. "You can see the timestamp there- it was taken a few minutes after Valant was seen entering the hotel." 

"This photo was the only one taken of the suspect?" 

"Yeah, it's blurry, but there's not much-" 

"Objection!" Apollo's voice rang out, suddenly full of confidence. Ema looked taken aback. 

"What was that for?!" 

"Detective Skye, you claim that this is a photo of Trucy Gramarye exiting the hotel after poisoning Valant Gramarye, correct?" 

"Yes, like I said!" 

"Then tell me this, where's the photo of her _entering_ the hotel?" 

Ema put a hand to her cheek. "Well, there isn't one!" 

"Then how could she be exiting if she never entered?!" 

"Objection!" Klavier shook his head. "Herr Justice, that can be explained away easily. The defendant must have entered the hotel sometime before Herr Gramarye did." 

"Objection!" Apollo banged his fists on the table. "Even if that was the case, there would still be a photo of her entering the hotel at some time this day! Or are you suggesting she has the ability to exit a building without entering it first?!" 

There was a beat of silence, and then the galley started murmuring again. Klavier found himself smiling a little. 

"Well, Herr Forehead, the defendant _is_ a magician." 

"It seems like this photo is useless to our case," said the judge. "Unless we can prove who it is-" 

"Nein, nein," said Klavier. "The Fräulein Detective was correct. It is Trucy Gramarye." 

"But Mr. Justice just proved that to be impossible!" 

"Ah, but Herr Forehead knows that this is not impossible, doesn't he?" Klavier said, smiling pointedly across the courtroom. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Apollo, who'd gone a shade whiter. He glanced quickly at Kristoph, who still looked as serene as ever. 

"Then let me explain for you. We have been unintentionally mislead. This photograph is not of the Fräulein exiting the building- it is of her _entering_ the building." 

"But that doesn't make any sense!" exclaimed Ema. "If she was still in the hotel, the policemen would have seen her! Or are you suggesting she hid somewhere?" 

"Of course not," said Klavier. "She had exited the building by the time the police arrived- just not through the front door. Herr Justice, won't you present _that_ evidence?" 

Apollo was glaring at him now. Klavier's expression did not change, though he was beginning to get a little worried. Didn't Apollo see the opening he was making for him? 

"Mr. Justice, if you have evidence you are withholding from the court…" 

"No, Your Honor," Apollo said quickly, paling further. "I think Prosecutor Gavin is talking about this." 

An image of Trucy's colorful handkerchiefs appeared on the screen. 

"Oh!" exclaimed the judge. "Magicians pull those out of their sleeves, don't they?" 

"These are special handkerchiefs, Your Honor," said Klavier. "They are reinforced so that they are strong enough to hold a person's weight." 

"Oh ho!" The judge blinked. "So the defendant used a pendulum to swing the body over from the next building!" 

"Um, no, Your Honor," said Apollo. "I think the prosecution is suggesting that Tr- that my client climbed out of the window." 

"Thank you, Herr Justice, you summed it up well." 

Apollo shot him another dirty look. Klavier wondered if he was going to have to bring up the next contradiction himself. 

"So the defendant entered the building after the victim, and escaped out the window before the police arrived," said the judge. "That clears up that contradiction. Any further objections, Mr. Justice, before we move on?" 

"Uh…" Apollo glanced helplessly at Kristoph, who merely shook his head patronizingly. "No, Your Honor." 

"I see," said the judge. "This evidence does indeed cast a great deal of suspicion on the defendant. Will Detective Skye-" 

 "Wait!" Apollo's voice cracked in his excitement. "I mean, objection, objection, Your Honor! I do have a contradiction!" 

Kristoph was eyeing Apollo as though he were a disobedient child, but Klavier breathed a small sigh of relief. There were few other witnesses for him to call, particularly following a testimony like that one. They needed this contradiction. 

"Yes, all right, I hear you, Mr. Justice," said the judge. "You may present the contradicting evidence in a calm and _quiet_ manner, but be warned that I will penalize you if it is not relevant." 

"Yes, Your Honor," said Apollo seeming a little more subdued, and cleared his throat. "Look at this photo, please." 

"Again? You are particularly fond of this photograph, aren't you?" Klavier chuckled. "I can sign one for you, if you want. But only after the trial is over." 

Apollo chose to ignore this. "You can see in the photo that this camera captures the entire front entrance of the hotel, including the bushes."

"Yes, and we can see the defendant entering, as well." 

"That's right," said Apollo. "But where's the second photo?" 

"Herr Forehead, have you not been paying attention? You just stated yourself that the defendant exited to building out the window." 

"Right!" Apollo exclaimed. "That window, by the way, was located on the _back_ of the building." 

"Yes, ample reason for there to be no second picture." 

"No, there has to be a second picture, because the bushes where this evidence was found are located at the front of the building!" Apollo slammed his fists on the bench. "Unless, of course, my client was not the one who hid the evidence there in the first place!" 

The galley erupted this time, and the judge had to bang his gavel four times before they finally settled. Klavier was very nearly jealous; Apollo seemed to have a talent for stirring up the crowd. 

"Mr. Justice," said the judge, stroking his beard, "are you suggesting that this evidence was planted?" 

"Absolutely," said Apollo. "It was planted to frame my client, Trucy Gramarye!" 

The crowd murmured, and Apollo looked at Trucy and flashed her a small, confident smile. 

"Careful, Justice," said Kristoph, voice low but audible. "Don't get ahead of yourself. This trial is not won yet." 

"Mr. Justice," said the judge, once the crowd had finally settled. "Please explain this  theory of yours." 

"Right," said Apollo, nodding. "It's simple. The real murderer knew about the security camera, and about Trucy's top hat, which, coincidentally, she lost the day of the crime. They also knew that she would be entering and exiting the hotel. What they didn't know was that Trucy was going to escape from the window. No one could've predicted that! So they made the mistake of hiding the false evidence by the entrance." 

"Ah, I see!" said the judge, voice that of a thirsty man who has just drunk deeply. "That makes sense." 

"Objection!" Klavier laughed, shaking his head. "Your Honor, don't be fooled by the defense's blind enthusiasm. Tell me, exactly what has he proved?" 

Apollo's gaze was savage. "That this evidence was planted on the scene. That is what we've proven!" 

"Hmm, no," said Klavier. "You have put forth that _suggestion_. And it is a compelling suggestion, to be sure. But here's my question for the defense: where is the second photograph?" 

"Huh…? Didn't I just-" 

"No, no," Klavier shook his head, unconsciously mimicking his brother. "I don't mean the second photo of the defendant. I mean the second photograph, the one of the perpetrator hiding the evidence." 

For a moment Apollo's mouth worked silently, and then he said in a small voice, "Oh." 

Beside him Kristoph gave a soft sigh. 

"Detective Skye, was there anyone else photographed entering the hotel at the time?" the judge demanded. 

"N-no, Your Honor, not on that day." 

"What I think we can learn from this, mein audience, is that this photo tells us nothing." Klavier shrugged. "Was it the defendant who placed the evidence there, or someone else? In the end, does it matter?" 

"Of course it matters!" That was Apollo again, regaining some steam. "Why wouldn't it matter?" 

"Because it does not refute the evidence itself," said Klavier. His heart was beating rapidly now; he had not planned any opening here, and if Apollo couldn't spot one,  the trial would soon come to a close. But if Trucy really wasn't guilty, there would be a contradiction… wouldn't there? 

"What do you mean, Mr. Gavin?" The judge was peering down at him intently. So was Kristoph, his eyes glittering slightly again. Klavier straightened. 

"The mug bears traces of the poison, and the Fräulein's fingerprints. Those cannot be faked. Therefore, this mug is irrefutably the murder wea-" 

" _Objection!"_  

Klavier was completely taken aback. Apollo was actually grinning, eyes blazing, like he'd had this planned all along. 

"The defense would like to present evidence that that mug is not, in fact, the murder weapon at all!" 

Klavier glanced over at Kristoph, and was amazed to see his brother's expression jarred ever so slightly. This was as much a surprise to him as anyone else in the courtroom. 

"By all means, present your evidence!" exclaimed the judge, looking as though he was on the edge of his seat again. 

"Here's my evidence," said Apollo, and on the screen flashed an image that Klavier recognized. 

"This is Valant Gramarye's cane," said Apollo. "I also have the actual item with me now." He reached under the bench and pulled out the cane, balancing it in his hands; in the corner of his eye Klavier saw his brother's face crease into a rapid frown. 

"Are you suggesting that Valant Gramarye was bludgeoned to death with his own cane?" The judge looked a tad too excited. 

"No, Your Honor. Actually, this is a trick cane." Apollo pulled off the top. "See, this inner part is hollow. We were able to find a very important piece of evidence there, in fact." 

"Oh? And it was the real murder weapon?" 

"No, Your Honor, the murder weapon is still inside this cane. It's a little hard to see, so I took a photograph of it." Apollo inclined his head, and a new photograph appeared on the monitor of the hollowed inside of the head of cane. At the very bottom of the shadowed hollow Klavier glimpsed something small and thin. 

"Is that… a pin?" 

"Yes." Apollo nodded. "It was a small pin, embedded at the bottom of the hollow space. There were traces of blood on it. We asked Detective Skye to do a test on it and found that there were traces of atroquinine as well." 

Klavier glanced at Ema and found her looking perfectly smug. Well, he couldn't fault her for that one, though he hoped she wouldn't make a habit of it. 

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," said the judge, blinking. "How does that make the cane the murder weapon? Are you suggesting that Valant Gramarye swallowed this pin?" 

"No, Your Honor," said Apollo. "Valant Gramarye hid something in his cane, and in doing so pricked his finger on this needle." 

"Like _Dornröschen_?" asked Klavier, fascinated in spite of himself. Apollo had driven the trial in a direction he had not anticipated at all. 

"Who now?"  

"My brother is referring to the tale of 'Sleeping Beauty,' Your Honor." That was Kristoph, speaking for the first time in a while. He looked amused. "Of course, in this case, our Beauty never receives the waking kiss."

That statement, delivered with such lighthearted impunity, left the courtroom quiet for a moment. Klavier made a calculated decision to avoid looking at Trucy for the time being. 

Kristoph inspected his nails for a moment, as if unaware of the attention he had suddenly commanded, then continued. 

"I hate to say this from our side of the bench, but is there not a point the prosecution has yet to bring up?" 

He looked over at Klavier, who straightened unconsciously, and smiled. 

"Do you need a hint, brother mine?" 

"Mr. Gavin," said the judge, for Klavier was silent, "wait a moment. Are you and this other Mr. Gavin related after all?" 

"Did we not mention it?" Kristoph tapped his chin with a perfectly manicured finger. "Klavier is my younger brother." 

The galley was muttering at this statement, and the judge looked dumbfounded. 

"Mr. Gavin! You haven't been…?" 

"Remember, I am not the one at the defense's bench today," said Kristoph. He inclined his head toward Apollo. "The estimable Mr. Justice is." 

"Thank you, Mr. Gavin," said Apollo. His tone was cold. 

"I see," said the judge. "I suppose that's all right, Gavin. I wouldn't want to accuse you of, er, collaboration, of course-" 

"Of course not." 

"But please, the defense's team must refrain from giving hints to the prosecution!" 

"Pardon an older brother's concern." Kristoph's smile was at its most disarming. "I only worry that he'll embarrass himself further." 

" _Thanks_ , Mr. Gavin, thank you, but I can handle the trial from here." Apollo's voice had gotten lower than Klavier would have expected. "I don't need you to- um, _help me_ right now." 

Kristoph's smile was fixed and glittering. 

The judge banged his gavel to quiet the galley, which had gotten unruly again. "We've strayed off-topic. Will the defense please-" 

"Objection!" 

"Mr… Gavin?" 

"Yes," said Klavier. "I have a question for the witness." 

Ema looked startled, and guiltily snapped her phone shut. "You mean me?" 

The judge looked morally outraged. "The witness will refrain from using her phone during her time on the stand!" 

Ema coughed and mumbled something that might have been an apology, snapping it shut. 

"Detective Skye," said Klavier. "I would like you to explain a little more about the way atroquinine works. Would it be deadly, for example, if a little touched your skin?" 

"No," said Ema, giving him an odd look. "It needs to be ingested and absorbed into the bloodstream to have an effect. The lethal dose size, however, is very-" 

"Let me ask another question. Atroqunine is a neurotoxin, correct? Which means it would need to cross the blood-brain barrier to work, yes?" 

"Well- yes." 

"Objection! Is there a point to-" 

"I am getting to that now, Justice," said Klavier. "The point being: regardless of how small a lethal dose can be, a prick to the finger simply will not introduce atroquinine into the bloodstream in a way for it to be effective. The poison _must_ be injected, or ingested." 

That set the galley off, and for once Apollo was silent, looking dumbfounded. The judge looked at Ema. 

"Detective Skye, in your opinion, is this correct?" 

"Well, scientifically…" Ema hesitated. "Yes, I believe it is." 

"So," said Klavier, "regardless of whether or not there really was a poisoned pin in Valant Gramarye's cane to begin with-" (the galley liked that statement, for sure) "-a prick on the finger would not have produced the neurological events that lead to Valant's death." 

"No…" Apollo said weakly. 

"Well, Mr. Justice," said the judge, watching him slowly crumple, "it was an interesting theory, but it seems as though Mr. Gavin has just disproven it. Unless you can prove a way for that poison to reach Valant Gramarye's mouth, I am afraid we will have to agree that the mug is the murder weapon after all." 

"Um…" Apollo looked helpless. "Uh…" 

Klavier watched him sweat, feeling oddly helpless himself. Kristoph's gaze was still fixed firmly upon him. 

"I see," said the judge. "It was quite a tangent, but now we must return to the matter at hand. I think we have seen quite enough evidence that suggests that-" 

"Objection! Your Honor, hold on a moment!" Apollo seemed to spring up, eyes afire. "Do you remember what happened at the start of this trial?" 

The judge blinked very hard. "O-of course I do! My memory is quite sound, I'll have you know!" 

"Is this reminiscing really relevant, Mr. Justice?" Klavier put in, words stiff and stilted.  

Apollo's eyes lingered on him for a moment, then flicked towards Kristoph and back. Klavier felt a sudden wave of resentment towards the pity he saw forming in them. For a moment he found himself almost loathing Apollo, for making him think such awful things about his own brother, for making him recognize when his brother was intentionally trying to humiliate him, and for how he still could not stop it from working. 

"It is relevant," said Apollo, unaware of his silent bitterness. "If you'll allow me to explain. Your Honor, how is the papercut you received at the beginning of this trial doing?" 

"Why, I nearly forgot about that. It's closed up now and it's stopped stinging. It's very kind of you to ask, Mr. Justice. People from your generation aren't usually so thoughtful." 

"Yes, um, I'm glad," Apollo said, a trifle wearily. "But I'd like to draw the court's attention to what the judge did directly after he received the cut." 

"Do you mean when I put my finger in my mouth?" The judge shook his head. "I assure you, I washed my hands right before I came in. It was quite sanitary." 

"Scientifically, there are benefits to putting saliva on small wounds," Ema put in, "though I wouldn't recommend it, because the human mouth-" 

"Thank you, Detective Skye," said Apollo quickly. "My point is, when anyone receives a small wound to their hand, what is the first thing they do? _They put the wound up to their mouth_!" 

"Objection!" Klavier's fist collided with the wall behind him. "There's no proof that Valant Gramarye did any such thing!" 

"Objection! There's no proof he drank from that mug, either! In fact, no traces of his saliva were found on it at all! However, his blood was found on that pin!" 

The galley burst into excited chatter, and the judge had to bang his gavel quite a few times. 

"Order! Order, I said!" 

"Objection!" Klavier was practically shaking, though from rage or excitement he could not say. "So what if the pin was the murder weapon instead of the mug? What does that prove?!" 

Apollo's fists slammed down. "It proves that the window of time in which the murder was planned is much larger than it initially appeared! Furthermore, the fact that the poisoned mug exists at all proves that someone was trying to frame _my_ client, and that therefore my client was not the murderer!" 

The judge banged his gavel a few more times, then gave up and shouted over the clamor, "A twenty-minute recess! We will have a twenty-minute recess to consider these new facts! Court is dismissed!" 

The audience filed out in a babbling hubbub of excitement. Apollo pushed through them to go the opposite way, towards Trucy. His eyes were alight with excitement and hope. 

Klavier looked back towards the defense's bench and realized, with a sinking feeling, that Kristoph was no longer there.


	15. Chapter 15

The knowledge that Apollo and Trucy had been heading towards lobby one during the recess strongly influenced Klavier's decision to head for lobby two, for once not desiring an audience. His mind was in too much turmoil, and he was grateful to find the space completely empty when he entered, since the bulk of the audience had either collected around Apollo and his sister or gone outside. 

He draped himself over one of the hard couches with a sigh. He could not honestly decide if the trial was going well or not. Would he prefer to see Trucy Gramarye stay out of jail? Certainly. Did he think she had _actually_ murdered her father's friend? Highly unlikely. 

Did he want to lose his first full trial? 

Did he want _Kristoph_ to watch him lose his first full trial? 

 _Would_ he lose his first full trial, even if Trucy was innocent, if Apollo couldn't keep countering his evidence? 

The thought was frightening, and one he did not like to consider. Not just for this case. _Any_ case. Sending an innocent defendant to jail… what a terrible prospect. 

To be honest, though, the reason he had chosen to become a prosecutor was because he had thought the inverse tipped the scales slightly. Letting a criminal walk away scot-free to do more evil in the world. He wondered whether or not Apollo ever had those qualms about _his_ duties- then he recalled, suddenly, that Apollo believed that he had the power to tell the distinction between innocent and guilty. 

Wasn't that considered cheating? 

Klavier put a hand over his face and was sighing right when he heard the door softly click open. 

He froze, for his mind had suddenly darted to the only possibility behind the soft footsteps clicking closer to him. 

 _Kristoph._  

He was almost afraid to uncover his eyes, but he reminded himself that Kristoph was his _brother_ , not some dark phantom, and that he had no reason to fear his own brother. 

He uncovered his eyes and found himself staring at blue suit pants. It was odd, because they looked a little too dark and poor-quality to be something his brother would wear. 

"Hey." 

Klavier slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. 

"This is unexpected, Herr Wright." 

Phoenix shrugged. He looked rumpled, thought Klavier, worse than the last time he'd seen him. He was carrying his jacket over one arm, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the tie entirely absent. His stubble had increased, creeping further underneath his chin. 

"You shouldn't nap on this couch." 

That was not really what Klavier had been expecting him to say, so it took him a second to formulate a snippy response. "Advice from a courtroom veteran, hm?" 

Phoenix laughed without sounding amused at all. "I've been watching the trial. The kid is doing well." 

"Hm." 

"You, not so much." 

"Such compliments will make me blush, Herr Wright." 

Phoenix ran a hand over his hair. It looked like his attempt to slick it back had only been half-hearted that morning, for there were strands starting to spring loose near the front. 

"I'm not trying to put you down. It's just a fact. You could do better out there, you know. I've seen you do better." 

Klavier planted an elbow on the arm of the couch so he could put his chin on his fist.

"I must admit that you are confusing me, Herr Wright. Wouldn't this type of pep talk be more appropriate for Herr Suit-as-Red-as-His-Face in the first lobby?" 

"Like I said, he's doing just fine." There was some sort of expression on Phoenix's face, one that did not look very positive, but Klavier could not detangle the meaning. He thought he might be able to guess, though. 

"Ah, I see. You are still sore over the forged evidence incident, and wish to seek your revenge. You want Apollo Justice to lose, ja?" 

Phoenix gave him a tired smile. "It seems that simple, doesn't it?" 

"I find that the simplest answer is most often the truth. It is one of the cornerstones of science, in fact." 

"That's funny. I find that the truth usually isn't simple at all." 

He was starting to get on Klavier's nerves with his holier-than-thou attitude. 

"What exactly were you hoping to accomplish out here with me, hmm, Herr Wright?" 

"Easy. To make sure you were still looking for the truth." Phoenix shoved his hands in his pockets. "You know what the kid's next move is going to be, don't you?" 

Klavier tapped his cheek with his fingers, growing more irritated. "I know what the judge will ask, ja. If not the Fräulein, who murdered Valant Gramarye?" 

"Exactly. And Apollo is preparing his case as we speak. He's going to find someone else to blame. Do you know who that is?" 

"Exactly why must I be interrogated about this?" 

" _Do_ you?" 

He sighed. "The only possible other suspect is Zak Gramarye." 

"Exactly. He'll accuse Zak, because accusing an already-condemned man is better than letting the sentence hang over Trucy's head instead. He's probably explaining this to her right now, as we speak." 

"The Fräulein will not like that at all." 

"But he'll do it, because it's the best chance she has."

Klavier eyed him. "You make it sound as if you believe Zak Gramarye is _innocent_." 

Phoenix barked out a laugh. "Of _course_ he's innocent!" 

Klavier was a little stunned. "'Of course'? Are you that loyal to a former client, or do you so badly want to see a little girl hang, Herr Wright?" 

Phoenix shook his head. "This is what I was talking about earlier. Your heart just isn't in this trial. You're not doing your job properly, Klavier." 

"Ach, I see. Because I believe-" And Klavier realized that yes, he did believe, one hundred percent "-that Trucy Gramarye would not murder anybody." 

"You think that's a prosecutor's job? To make sure everybody you prosecute is found guilty?" Phoenix gave him a kind of sad smile. "No, that's not it. Your job is to put the criminal behind bars. The _real_ criminal. And you do that by finding out the truth." 

Klavier was quiet a while, finding himself hating the fact that from his seated position, he had to stare up at Phoenix. 

"I have always known that, Herr Wright. I intend to do my job." 

"Good. I knew you had that kind of potential, Gavin, when we faced off the other day." His smile was wry now. "Now listen. Apollo's not going to have much evidence against Zak, but he does have a very strong case when you consider the motive. Do you follow me?" 

Klavier said nothing, just drummed his fingers against his cheek. 

"I'm going to tell you right now," Phoenix said, "that that motive is completely _false._ " 

"Yes? And you know this, how?" 

"Because I had a talk with Zak, the day before the trial, and he hinted at something." Phoenix looked grim. "And now that I've spoken with Trucy, I'm certain of it." 

"And what is _it_ , then?" 

"I'm not going to tell you what you could easily figure out on your own," Phoenix said. "You have the evidence right there, after all. All I want to tell you is don't let Apollo get away with accusing the wrong man." 

Klavier gazed up at him, fingers now resting on his temple. "You seem to care a great deal about this, Herr Wright, and it makes me wonder why." 

Phoenix smiled. 

"Maybe it's like you said- I still have a lot of faith in my client. But it's for someone else's sake, too." 

"Not mine, I hope." 

He had meant it as a joke, but Phoenix's next words were serious. 

"You don't need someone like me to care about you, Gavin. Quite the opposite, actually." 

"Thank you, Herr." Klavier's voice nearly had enough sarcasm in it to rival Apollo's. "Are we finished? Because like you, I also have a great deal of faith in Herr Gramarye. Faith that he is nothing more than a low-minded criminal." 

Phoenix gave him a long look, then shrugged ruefully. "It was worth a try." 

He left with that, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

Klavier stared at the door, fingers drumming rapidly on the arm of the sofa, and bit his lip. With a sudden grimace he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. 

Ema Skye's irritated, tinny voice filled his ear. " _What_." 

"Hello to you too, Fräulein Detective. I have a simple request for you. I would like you to analyze the handwriting on the diary page included in Zak's letter." 

Her response was as happy as he would have expected. "Are you crazy? There's only ten minutes left in the recess!" 

"Then I expect you to do it in five, Fräulein." He had pulled out his evidence dossier, and his eyes lingered over it now. "And another thing-" 

"You _are_ crazy!" 

"-I'd like you to do a blood test on the drop of blood found on the letter. If you don't mind." 

She was silent for a few seconds, and he prepared himself mentally for a wave of abuse.  

"Whose handwriting?" 

"Huh?" 

"Do you even know how handwriting analysis works?! I can't do it if I don't know whose handwriting I'm comparing it to!" 

"Ah. Yes." He stifled a surprised laugh and told her the name. 

"Are you _serious_?" 

"Always, Fräulein." 

She huffed with annoyance. "Well, you're just lucky that I happen to have gone back to the lab _myself_ , to do some more tests on my own. I can run the handwriting analysis right now, if you stay on the phone a minute." 

"Thanks, Fräulein. I knew I could depend on you." 

She barked out a short laugh. "Ha!" 

Klavier smiled and listened to the sound of her hammering keys. 

"Machine's working on it," she said, after a moment. "It'll take a minute or two. Hey, Gavin?" 

"Hm?" 

"I'm glad you're finally taking this seriously."

He was taken aback. "I've _always_ taken it seriously." 

"No you haven't. You've treated this case and the last one like your own personal proving grounds. It's immature. You're in a stupid band, aren't you? You should know how to work as a team. But instead you spend all your time prancing around acting like the queen of France and not letting anybody tell you squat." 

"I had no idea your estimation of me was so high, Fräulein." 

"Yeah, and I guess I should have expected that you would behave like a spoiled little diva." 

Now he was beginning to get a little annoyed. "Am I actually that awful?" 

She was banging on buttons again. "It's done." A pause. "Well, damn." 

"I was right?" 

"Yes. What the heck does this mean?!" 

"Never mind for now. What about the blood on the letter?" 

"That's going to take more time, Gavin. At least half an hour." 

Klavier sighed and ran his free hand through his bangs. "I see. Well, it wasn't that important. Just curiosity." 

"Hey, I'll still do it. I can't promise there's even enough of a sample there to work with, but I'll try to figure it out. Keep your phone on you." 

"Thanks, Fr-" 

There was a click, and he winced. Apparently they still weren't quite friends.

 

* * *

 

"Court will now reconvene for the trial of Trucy Gramarye." The judge banged his gavel. "Mr. Justice?" 

"Yes, Your Honor?" Apollo's eager look had faded somewhat over recess, to be replaced by one of stubborn determination. Glancing at Trucy's unhappy expression, Klavier could imagine why. 

"Before the recess you presented a new theory to the court. You suggested that due to the fact that the actual murder weapon is the small pin in Valant Gramarye's cane, someone else had planted the poisoned mug to frame your client. Is this correct?" 

Apollo nodded. "Yes, Your Honor. Taken together, all the recent evidence suggests that Valant Gramarye never even came in contact with the poisoned mug." 

Klavier wouldn't have presumed to go _that_ far, but he kept his peace. Across the room, Kristoph caught his eye, but for once he felt equal to it. Phoenix Wright's words kept flashing through his mind, and as much as he disliked the source, he couldn't deny the truth to them now. 

Kristoph should be pleased that he was going to follow through with them. 

"The prosecution has no objections?" The judge was peering at him doubtfully, and he shrugged. 

"The prosecution agrees that the murder weapon is likely the pin and not the mug." 

Now Apollo, too, was peering at him doubtfully. Klavier kept the vapid smile on his face. 

"Very well then," said the judge. "However-" 

"However," Klavier said, "this leaves us with an important question, does it not?" 

"Does it?" The judge blinked. 

"Yes. Namely, what evidence is there that Trucy Gramarye did not plant the pin?" 

"Objection!" Apollo looked livid. "There's no evidence that she did!" 

"I disagree," said Klavier. "Or at least, I'd like to point out that she had both the means and the motive to do so." 

"Please explain, Mr. Gavin." 

"Of course." Klavier straightened slightly. "The means should be obvious. Naturally, Fr- _Miss_ Gramarye had access to Valant's personal belongings, since they were staying in the same hotel. She would also know about the trick cane, since she worked onstage with him." 

"Very true," frowned the judge. "Mr. Justice?" 

"Yes," said Apollo, rather painfully. "She would."  

He looked strained but not entirely defeated. He still had a trick up his sleeve. Klavier was going to have to draw it out into the open. 

 "Do you see this letter?" With a flick of his fingers, Klavier displayed Zak's letter on the monitor. "It was found in the victim's possession at the crime scene. Actually, it was hidden in the same part of the cane as the poisoned pin." 

"Oh ho," blinked the judge. "That's very strange." 

"Stranger still is what we found inside of it," said Klavier. "There is a second page, actually. One that may seem somewhat familiar." He pressed a button, and waited for the response. 

He was not disappointed. As the second diary page flashed on screen, the galley fairly rumbled with suppressed excitement. 

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the judge. "That _is_ familiar-looking! Where have I seen that handwriting before?" 

"Allow me to jog your memory, Your Honor." That had been Apollo, who was clutching one of his documents like a lifeline. "This is a page from Magnifi Gramarye's diary. The missing page from the trial three days ago." 

The judge's hand had already been straying prematurely towards his gavel, and now as the galley erupted he banged it three times.  

"Order! Yes, I _do_ remember that! Fascinating!" The judge shook his head. "I hope that this is not a forgery like the last one." 

Apollo laughed nervously. "Well, all we know about this one is that it was found in the letter at the crime scene." 

"I can corroborate that Herr Justice is correct," Klavier said helpfully, and Apollo shot him a look, like _I can handle this!_  

Klavier decided to take back the reins anyway, because after all this was _his_ show. "Your Honor, I invite you to read the contents of this page. Please pay particular attention to the name at the end." 

"Very well," said the judge, his eyes darting down the page. "Hm, inheritance… aah! Valant! Magnifi willed his repertoire to _Valant Gramarye_!" 

The audience was completely wound up now, so much so that Klavier grinned. _This_ was what he lived for, and not even the mordant look Kristoph was beginning to get could dampen his enjoyment. 

"But I don't understand," said the judge. "If the tricks go to Valant, why does that give the defendant ample cause to murder him…?" 

"Easy, Your Honor," said Klavier, snapping his fingers to the beat of the courtroom's pulse. "Trucy Gramarye is Zak Gramarye's daughter, j- yes? His direct descendant. Therefore, if Zak inherits the repetoire, she does after him. But if _Valant_ inherits the repertoire…" 

"Of course! She killed him so that the tricks would go to her father, and then to her!" 

"I knew you would figure it out, Herr Judge," said Klavier. Apollo's look was now nearly venomous. 

"Objection! My client was _not_ the one who had the most to gain by murdering Valant Gramarye!" 

"And how do you figure that?" asked Klavier.  

"Because my client herself has stated that she does not want her grandfather's repertoire!" Apollo stated, but the judge shook his head. 

"I am afraid that the victim's own testimony is poor evidence to base a case on." 

"But what if it's paired with the fact that someone else has a better motive than she does? What if the person had the means _and_ the motive _and the will_?" Apollo was practically quivering with contained energy. 

"Mr. Justice, you wish to name a new suspect?"  

Apollo opened his mouth, but was cut off. Trucy was standing up, her own fists clenched. 

"Don't, Apollo! Don't you dare!" 

"The defendant will please take her seat," said the judge, motioning towards the bailiff. Apollo's shoulders were tenser than Klavier had ever seen them. 

"Apollo! I mean it! Don't-" 

"The defense names Zak Gramarye as a new suspect in this case!" 

Trucy sat back down with a thump before the bailiff could even reach her.

"Zak Gramarye," the judge repeated, slowly. "Yes, I see. Zak Gramarye could have been the culprit after all. Motive- means- and after his partner betrayed him in court-" 

"Objection," Klavier said. "Remember, the pin had to have been planted _before_ the court case, unless you are suggesting that Zak went back to the apartment that very day."

"Objection!" Apollo slammed his fists down. "Who says he didn't? In fact, there's evidence that proves he did!" 

"Ha ha. I think I already know what you are going to show us," Klavier said with a smile, and Apollo allowed him a small grimace before the security camera photo flashed into being on the screen. 

"This photo again?" asked the judge. "Isn't that Trucy Gramarye?" 

"That is not my client," said Apollo. "That is actually the person who planted the false evidence that day. And that person was, without a doubt, Zak Gramarye!" 

"Ah!" The judge peered at the photo. "I see! It did seem a tad bit tall for the girl." 

"Objection!" Klavier shook his head. "A blurry photo and a merely plausible motive are not _evidence_ , Herr Justice. You'll have to do better than that." 

"Very well," said Apollo, meeting his gaze squarely. "Then how about this: this letter was from Zak Gramarye to be given to Valant Gramarye." 

"Yes, and?" 

"Anyone who knows Valant well knows what he does with important things," said Apollo. "Like his ID card, or his bank statements. He stuffs them in that little compartment in his cane for safekeeping. He thinks- he thought- that no one knows about it." 

The judge spoke slowly. "You're saying that Zak Gramarye gave Valant the letter knowing that he would put it in that compartment and… prick his finger." 

Apollo took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes." 

He let the audience settle down before he continued. "The pin could have been set at any time within the last few days. It acted like a time delay then, until Zak could hand him something he knew Valant would want to keep safe." 

"Trucy Gramarye would have known this too, Herr Justice," Klavier pointed out. 

"Yes, but who is the letter from?" Apollo flicked back to the first page. "It's to Valant, from _Zak_." 

"Indeed," said the judge, brow furrowing, "in this case, Mr. Gramarye seems much more suspicious than his daughter." 

"Especially…" Apollo hesitated, but only briefly. "Especially considering he is a man who has killed before." 

The judge blinked. "Yes, that does seem to be the case. The facts of the matter all seem clear to me. We may be looking at the wrong suspect. However, if possible, I would like to extend this trial one more day until the prosecution-" 

"That won't be necessary, Your Honor." 

"Prosecutor Gavin?" 

Klavier's fingers curled around the phone in his pocket. His original plan had been to let the trial run as long as it could, and indeed, this was the perfect opportunity. With more time and evidence, they might even be able to finally uncover the truth about Kristoph's involvement in the case and break his hold over the two siblings. 

But Klavier had made a mistake; he had looked at Trucy Gramarye's face as Apollo called her father a murderer. And now he was suddenly feeling less than friendly towards the red-suited brother. 

Apollo was watching Klavier, confusion apparent in his gaze. Klavier could see, also, the weight of what he had done behind his eyes; Apollo, who was so straight-laced and had such convictions about justice, laying such a charge on a man he knew was innocent. He was doing it to save his sister's life. Klavier was not sure _who_ he was doing what he was about to do for. It was certainly not for Kristoph, who was watching him with a thoughtful expression on his face, pleased and fascinated like a cat pulling apart a small insect. Kristoph himself was certainly under the illusion that Klavier was firmly back under his thumb. 

Wouldn't it tickle him pink to know who Klavier had spoken to during the recess. Wouldn't it just. 

"I like this theory, Herr Justice. It rings very true," he said, meeting Apollo's gaze, which flickered, unable to quite hold up. "But unfortunately, I have just received an important update on a piece of evidence that I think will change the judge's mind." 

"What evidence is this? What are you talking about?" Even Apollo's voice was shaky, his eyes frantic. _Stop. Don't ruin this for me._  

"I had a handwriting analysis done on this diary page by the eminent detective," said Klavier. "Do you know what we found? It is yet another forgery." 

"A forgery?" exclaimed the judge. "But why would anyone forge this page?" 

"A good question," said Klavier. "In fact, there is only one person who would obviously gain from forging this page." 

"Yes!" exclaimed Apollo. "Valant Gramarye! So he forged it?" 

Klavier laughed. "Do you think I would bring it up if it were that simple? No. Valant is not the forger, and he died believing he had inherited Magnifi's repertoire- of this I have no doubt." 

"Prosecutor Gavin," Apollo said, "stop holding us in suspense. Who made this forgery?" 

Klavier laughed, almost nervously, except his professional demeanor would never allow for that. 

"The handwriting, while a passable imitation of Herr Magnifi's, unmistakably came from the hand of Zak Gramarye." 

The galley erupted, Apollo went white as a sheet, but for some reason all Klavier could hear was the soft, knowing laugh that came from his brother's mouth. Kristoph was smiling, almost warmly, and Klavier felt the glow of his approval, and the tainted sensation it now held, as if he were a child unable to stomach a sugary reward. 

"Objection!" Apollo was shouting, as the judge banged his gavel to try and quiet the clamor. "That's completely illogical! Why would Zak ever write a fake will giving everything to Valant?!" His trembling fists struck the bench. "He was rivals with Valant! He would have denied him everything if he could have!" 

"Objection," said Klavier. "No, I don't think so. Herr Zak may have split irreconcilably with Herr Valant, but that is the crux of the matter, is it not?" 

"Order!" cried the judge, who was beginning to look a bit exhausted from all the gavel-banging he was having to do. "Prosecutor Gavin, am I to understand you have a theory to explain all this?" 

"Ja, Your Honor," said Klavier, dropping whatever thin pretense of formality he had left. "With the court's permission, I will explain everything step by step." 

"Klavier," Apollo said, very quietly, and Klavier saw his brother's eyes dart over at him. 

"Zak and Valant were not a duo on their own," Klavier began. "No, they had one more person to consider: Zak's daughter, the Fräulein Trucy. She was always present, after all, while they struggled to outdo one another. And the troupe fell on bad times, ja? Not the best environment for a young lady. And I hear-" He looked at Trucy, who stared silently back at him. "I hear it upset the Fräulein so much she went looking for something- a safe haven, ja?" 

"Objection," Apollo said weakly. 

"On what grounds do you object?" 

Apollo opened and closed his mouth, looking nearly helpless. Klavier continued. 

"Now, Herr Zak may be many things, but I do not think he is an unloving father. I think he felt remorse, ja? And I think the fact that he forged the will for Herr Valant proves that. For it suggests that Herr Magnifi _did_ live long enough to do one last thing: will the repertoire to Herr Zak himself, and all his descendants." 

"I still don't understand," said the judge, frowning. "You say Zak forged the will for his daughter? But wouldn't it make more sense for him to want his daughter to inherit the repertoire and all the benefits it would entail?" 

"You think so?" In his pocket, Klavier's silenced phone was now buzzing against his fingers; he squeezed it tightly and ignored it. "And what kind of inheritance would that be? A mountain of pressure to maintain a dying troupe with a bitter 'uncle' and a hard-hearted father. I think Herr Zak understood very well what the Fräulein's true wishes were. I think everything, up from the spectacle he made in court three days ago up to the forging of this will, was to ensure the satisfaction of his partner and the freedom of his daughter from everything that weighed her spirit down." Klavier hesitated. "And if that freedom had a price for Zak- well, it is his only daughter we are talking about, ja?" 

The judge was silent for a long moment, his eyes closed. 

"I think I understand now. What a truly strange case this has been." 

"Prosecutor Gavin." 

The shaky voice was Trucy's; Klavier glanced over and was stunned. There were tears on her cheeks, and her trembling lips could not quite form the words she was trying to say. Klavier understood them nonetheless: _Thank you._  

Trucy wiped her eyes, and he looked away, feeling strangely weak. Apollo across from him was staring down at the bench, stunned. Crushed. 

Klavier could not blame him; he himself felt weak. He had not expected her to cry. He had not imagined that someone like her would cry like that. It shook him. 

Only one person in the courtroom seemed entirely unmoved. Kristoph stood beside Apollo, arms loosely crossed, a faintly interested smile gracing his features. It was was likely that Klavier alone could see the slight scorn glittering in his eyes. 

His brother had always disdained emotional outbursts, after all. Though he had been known to use them to his advantage in court. 

"I think," the judge said, "with the knowledge that Zak Gramarye was the one who forged this will, any evidence of a motive disappears. It seems that once again, we must examine Miss Gramarye's role in all of this." 

"Objection," said Apollo. "Your Honor-" 

"Yes, Mr. Justice? Do you have any other evidence to prove that Zak Gramarye had a connection with this murder?" 

"No… I- wait-" 

"Your Honor!" 

The high, clear voice was Trucy Gramarye's. She was standing up, and incredibly, all traces of tears were gone from her eyes, as if they had never existed. She was, after all, a magician. 

"Your Honor, I would like to make a request." 

"Well-" The judge sputtered. "This is highly irregular-" 

"Trucy…"  

That was Apollo. She didn't look at him. 

"Your Honor, I would like to request to testify myself about what happened the day Uncle Valant was murdered." 

"Hm!" The judge stroked his beard. "Well, I'm not sure what to say. Do you have any objections, Prosecutor Gavin?" 

"The prosecution would be delighted to hear the words of such a charming witness," said Klavier. True, it would be nearly a waste of time, since no one could really believe her, but he was quite interested himself to hear her version of events. 

"And the defense?" 

"Well-" Apollo looked at Trucy, then said, "No… the defense does not object." 

"Then we will take a five-minute recess while you prepare this new, er, witness." The judge banged his gavel. "Court is dismissed!" 

The audience filed out again in a buzz of excited chatter. Klavier let out a slow breath, not wanting very much to look at either perceptive sibling at the moment. He took out his phone instead, keeping his head down and his expression cool. 

He'd missed two calls from Ema Skye during the trial. She'd sent him four texts as well. The first one was predictable. 

 _Answer your stupid phone, you fop._  

Not everyone thinks it's acceptable to take calls during trials, he answered her mentally. The next was more interesting. 

 _Anyway, I did an analysis of the bloodstain on the letter. It's Valant Gramarye's blood. Dead end._  

Klavier sighed. Indeed, a dead end. The victim's blood on a letter in his possession was hardly news. He checked the third text. 

 _However, I analyzed the surface of the paper (while I was waiting for you to pick up your stupid phone, you better thank me later) and found something interesting. There are tiny traces of a clear lacquer-like substance in a few spots on the paper. I'm going out on a limb and guessing it's nail polish._  

Suddenly Klavier's grip on his phone was iron-hard. He pushed the arrow with his thumb to get to the last text. 

 _Did Valant have a girlfriend, or what? Either way, I think- I THINK- I might be able to get a DNA sample off of one. There are microscopic fibers etc. trapped in the lacquer that might be flakes of skin or hair. It's probably Valant again but I might as well check to make sure. Do you want me to try?_  

He stared at the message on the screen for what seemed like an eternity. 

"Klavier?" 

His head jerked up and he realized his brother was standing over him, a concerned look on his face. 

"Klavier, everyone has already gone out. Why are you just standing here- what has caught your attention?" 

"Oh- nothing, nothing important, just an old girlfriend," Klavier smiled, thumb jabbing buttons in quick succession before he shut his phone. "This trial is quite bumpy, is it not?" 

"Indeed it is," said Kristoph. "I'll admit you had me worried at the beginning, Klavier, about how seriously you were going to take all this. I'm glad you managed to pull yourself together and present some decent arguments." 

"Thank you," said Klavier, deciding to make the statement into a compliment best he could. "Though I feel awfully sorry for the Fräulein, to be honest." 

"Yes, it is a shame," said Kristoph. "One would not have expected her to murder her uncle with that demeanor, would they?" 

"Oh no," said Klavier, staring at him. "No, they would not." 

Kristoph smiled and put out a hand that hovered a centimeter above Klavier's shoulder. "I am just glad you are doing the Gavin name proud, little brother. Perhaps I should stand at _your_ side of the courtroom next time, hmm? You take my advice much better than Justice does." 

Klavier laughed. "Yes, unfortunately that is true." 

His fingertips still burned, somehow, from the last message he had sent to Ema: 

_DO NOT TEST IT_


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep meaning to say this but thanks for the comments and kudos guys! They make my day whenever I get them, especially the comments. Knowing someone out there is anticipating the next chapter is a wonderful incentive to write more :)

There was generally only one foolproof way to get away from Kristoph that Klavier knew of, and he had been using it since he was nine years old. As Kristoph led him out of the courtroom, Klavier smiled and told him- in a perhaps more vulgar way than his pretty face would seem to allow- that he needed to use the restroom. 

The effect was immediate. Kristoph took a step away from him, as if his body was suddenly emanating toxic biological functions, and jerked his head towards the nearby lobby restroom. 

Klavier escaped with dignity more or less intact, though his nerves were already quite shot from what he was beginning to understand from Ema's texts. She had already texted him back- twice- after his last message, but he hadn't the courage to open his phone again, and just kept squeezing it uselessly in his pocket. 

 _Clear nail polish_. 

It couldn't just be a coincidence, could it? Just as suspicions against Zak Gramarye departed, here came fresh evidence that would link his brother to the crime. 

Klavier felt as if he were circling and circling, caught in an unstoppable whirlpool, getting closer and closer to a black pit in the center. 

He had to cling to whatever lifelines he had left. 

He opened the door to the restroom and bumped directly into the red chest of Apollo Justice. 

"Ah," said Apollo, at the same time that Klavier made a startled noise. He noticed that Apollo looked more than a little shaky, and that his eyes were red and slightly puffy. 

Suddenly he found that he would prefer Kristoph after all, and made as if to try and exit gracefully, but Apollo caught his sleeve before he had even half-turned. 

"We need to talk," he breathed. 

Klavier found himself being unwittingly dragged into the men's restroom after that, which in different circumstances would have been a great deal more interesting. 

"Now tell me," said Apollo, one hand on the marbled bathroom counter, as if he were still back at the defense's bench, "what the _hell_ just happened in that courtroom." 

Klavier was a little terrified of the burning intensity of his glare, as much of the possibility that Apollo had been crying as anything else, but he also felt a kind of creeping annoyance at the unfairness of it. 

"Pardon me," he said, with all the eloquence he could muster. "I wasn't aware that anything went wrong, Herr Justice. _I_ was only doing my job as a prosecutor." 

Apollo's hand came up in a swift, violent motion, but he appeared to control himself and said, through his teeth, "This is not what we discussed last night." 

"Herr Justice- no, Herr Forehead- we did not discuss anything last night, as far as I am concerned," Klavier said levelly, though his heart was beating rather fast. Was Apollo stupid or something, making it sound as if they were conspiring together where anyone could hear them? "All we spoke of was-" 

"You as much as admitted you thought Trucy wasn't guilty," Apollo snarled. "So I don't know what you're trying to pull now- you said you were committed to finding the truth- was that a lie? Or do you _want_ to see Trucy convicted?" 

"I did not lie," Klavier said, eyes tightening. "In fact, I have been doing exactly what I said this entire time. You are the one who has strayed off the path, Herr Justice. You are the one who is openly lying to the court." 

"Zak could have done it!" Apollo snapped, but he was getting very red now. "I didn't know for sure whether or not he-" He stopped himself, clenching his fingers around his bracelet. 

"Can you detect your _own_ lies?" Klavier asked. Apollo's eyes snapped back up at him. 

"You sound just like your brother." 

"Wonderful," said Klavier. "He is one of the most eloquent orators that I know of." 

At this Apollo laughed, a tad hysterically, and tried to run a hand through his stiff bangs. "You and him- how could I even have thought it was all right to trust you?" 

"You had better stop blaming everything on me, Apollo Justice," Klavier said, "and start worrying about how you are going to save your sister from this charge, ja? Because if you have no one else to pin the murder on-" 

"No one else? Of course there's no one else!" Apollo slammed his fist down on the hard countertop, and Klavier flinched for him. "You should know that! You've looked through the evidence as much as I have! It's like the real murderer was a- was a phantom, or something!" 

Klavier was silent at this, and something of his apprehension must have leaked into his body language, because Apollo's gaze sharpened.  

"Zak Gramarye was my _only shot_ , Klavier. Can you possibly understand that? There's nowhere else to go from here!" His voice wobbled. "They've hanged girls almost as young as her before, you know! If she's convicted, I can't- I can't help her anymore!" 

Klavier looked at a spot on the wall behind Apollo's head, because it was hard to look directly at him when he was like this, and said, somewhat miserably, "Then you need to stop her from being convicted, don't you?" 

Apollo gave a hoarse bark of a laugh and said, "She won't even look at me now. I'm such a failure as a defense attorney." 

"Would it have been worth it, then, if you had gotten her off by sending her father in her pace?" 

"Of course it would have." But Apollo looked as if the words themselves made him feel nauseated. Forcibly, he added, "Zak Gramarye is a despicable man. I know he did something, something in his past he's been trying to escape from. It might even be murder." 

"Sure," said Klavier, "whatever you say. But I think, whatever the man has done, he clearly cares more about his daughter than you thought." 

Apollo looked down and away.  

"Probably." His fingertips slid across the smooth marble counter to curl into his fist, and he added bitterly, "I guess I should have listened to Trucy all along. Even though it's all his fault she was so miserable in the first place." 

"Family often makes one miserable," Klavier counseled, and twitched when Apollo gave him a sidelong glance. "But anyhow, you took a gamble, and it failed. I think that it is better that it did, ja? You do not want that weighing down on your conscience, not you, Herr Forehead-as-vast-as-his-honesty." 

"I don't really want Trucy being hanged on my conscience either, you know." 

"I doubt they will hang her. Likely they will just sentence her to life in prison." 

" _Thank you_ , Klavier." 

Klavier gave a little cough. "Besides, the Fräulein will testify next, won't she? I am looking forward to hear what she has to say." 

"Of course you are. Because it will make absolutely no difference to the court what she says." 

"Hm," said Klavier, though he privately agreed. "Still, I think it may help clear one or two troubling details up, at the very least." 

"No," Apollo said, face suddenly grim. "I think it'll just make things worse." 

"You have an idea about what she will say?" 

"Ha." Apollo shook his head. "I think we're doomed." 

Klavier hesitated, biting his lip, for another long moment, and didn't notice that Apollo had taken a step closer to him until he spoke, voice low and close. 

"What's on your mind, Klavier? Something's been bothering you since you came in." 

 _Curse_ that perceptiveness of his. Klavier fiddled with his bangs and tried to smile. "Ja? And what do you think that is?" 

Apollo narrowed his eyes at him, making Klavier feel uncannily like he was being targeted with a scope rifle. 

"You want me to say what I think it is?" 

 _That_ was a nerve-wracking statement, and Klavier's mind went reeling to figure out how much Apollo could possibly know. Had Ema been contacting him too? If so, he _really_ needed to scale back her salary. 

But perhaps it would be better if Apollo _did_ know, to take the burden out of his hands. If Apollo tested it… 

It was just that the love and faith he had in his brother was already so tenuous now, hanging by a thread. He was too cowardly to snap it. No, he could not break that last bit of trust. 

He needed Kristoph, after all. _Needed_ him. 

Suddenly he could not abide the thought of Apollo discovering that secret. 

"Whatever you are thinking," he told Apollo, "it is probably- and very likely- incorrect." 

"Yeah?" Apollo had a definite glint in his eye now. "I sure hope it is. Because I think it's real messed up of you to be thinking of it right now." 

"I-" Klavier hesitated. "What exactly are you accusing me of, right now?" 

"Oh my God," said Apollo, scowling. "You _know_ what. It's pretty obvious with the way you've been acting since we met. You have a crush on me, don't you?" 

Klavier allowed himself a very long pause to process this. 

"Herr Forehead-" 

"No. No Herr Forehead. Look, it's okay if you like me. Whatever. It's kind of c-" Apollo coughed, pinked a little. "It's _tolerable_. But right now, when _my sister is on trial_ , when everything important is at stake, I really need your head to be-" 

"Stop," said Klavier. He was tense, tight, openly angry now. "Stop at once. You think that that is what's going through my mind at a time like this? Are you a _blödel_ \- an idiot? What makes you presume you are so attractive? You think I am falling all over myself for that huge forehead?" 

"You certainly bring it up enough, Prosecutor _Piano_ ," Apollo snapped. 

Dead silence followed. 

"What," said Klavier, because it was all he could muster for a moment. "I am sorry- did you just…?" 

"Look, you have an unusual name, and I looked it up," said Apollo, who had gone redder than Klavier had ever seen him. "That's not- stop laughing!" 

Klavier was laughing, a kind of helpless giggle. "I'm sorry- I cannot- _Prosecutor Piano_!" 

"Yes, okay, yes, it was not the best comeback," Apollo said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away; thoroughly embarrassed. "I get it. You can stop laughing now." 

Klavier did stop, unfortunately; because it left him realizing that not only had Apollo been aware of his feelings all along, he had called them a crush. Which, for some reason, seemed so dismissive and irritating. 

Also, unless Klavier was wrong, he seemed entirely uninterested in reciprocating them. 

Also, he was very correct in saying that this was _the exact wrong time to have this discussion why would he bring it up._  

"All I'm saying is that-" Apollo's lips twisted as he tried to find the right words. "Look, you're young, okay? You can't fall for the first guy who, uh." He swallowed. "Treats you better than your brother does." 

That effectively shut down the remainder of Klavier's mirth. 

"Thank you for the kind advice, Herr Justice. Were I in any way interested in you, I would be sure to take it to heart. Luckily, this is not the case." 

"Oh, it's not?" 

"No." Klavier's voice was tighter than it should have been, angrier than it should have been, but he could not help it. "Have you forgotten? I am not some lonely high-schooler; in fact, I graduated high school a few years ago; I have a career, and I am a successful musician. I am- _not_ \- lacking in willing partners." 

"Right," said Apollo, quietly, but Klavier was not finished. 

"I am sorry that I have given you this impression. But you are deluding yourself, Herr Justice, if you think I am the slightest bit attracted to you." 

He had thought Apollo would be angry, would sputter and protest, but he only gave an awkward kind of laugh. 

"No, you're right. That was a stupid thing for me to assume. I'm always terrible with these things." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess- Yeah, no, it's pretty wrong of me to even come to that conclusion, isn't it, with everything you've been going through. I'm really sorry." 

Now Klavier was beginning to feel almost guilty, and a bit like he had let something slip through his fingertips. "Ah- well." 

"No- I mean, I guess with all the physical contact you wanted- and the way you watched me-"Apollo was flushed again, and beginning to look truly unhappy. "My mistake." 

 _Aren't you supposed to be the one who can see through lies_ , Klavier thought, a bit desperately, but Apollo was looking away from him, eyes turned to glance at his own reflection.  

"I didn't mean to imply that you are unattractive," Klavier said, too quickly. 

"Okay, let's move on from this topic," said Apollo, also too quickly. 

"No, I did not mean that," Klavier insisted, still shoveling away at his own grave. "I only meant to say that _I personally_ -" 

"I got it." 

"No, but-" 

" _Klavier_. I get it. You don't want to offend me, but I made a mistake. Please, let's move on." 

"I did not mean to imply that you are unattractive to me personally, either. This is not the case. I would be very willing to kiss you." 

Now Apollo was giving him a sort of flat, dead-eyed stare. Klavier couldn't stop babbling like an idiot. 

"I could kiss you now, really. Probably more than that. Actually, what I mean to say is, given the opportunity, I could be very-" 

"Klavier." 

Klavier swallowed. 

Apollo rubbed his forehead with three fingers and took a slow breath. "I think we're going to have to put this aside for now. There are more important things we need to discuss." 

" _You_ brought it up," Klavier couldn't help saying, petulant, and Apollo made a face. 

"You were the one letting it distract you from-! Anyway." 

"I was most assuredly not! You-" 

" _Anyway_! We have a trial to run, Klavier." 

Klavier bit back another retort, still smarting from the unfairness of it all. "Fine. But let me remind you, there is no 'we' for this trial." 

"Don't worry. You've made that abundantly clear." 

Drat him, now he had Klavier feeling guilty again. 

"What I mean is that I am not going to help you _cheat_ , Herr Forehead. That's a disservice to both of us."

"It wasn't cheating." Apollo's face was sullen. "But it doesn't matter. Like I said, I've got nothing else to go on besides Zak." 

"Then it should be obvious what you should do, ja? Stall for time! This trial is overextended as it is; if you can bring up enough doubts, Herr Judge will grant us more time to investigate." 

Time, hopefully, that would allow him to settle his own doubts and fears as well. 

"Stall, hm." Apollo wrinkled his brow. "Mr. Gavin _hates_ that. But then again, that was a favorite strategy of…" He paused, then his eyes widened. "Of course! The forgery! We'll call Mr. Gavin!" 

"What?" 

"You said it last night- if I can find evidence against him, you'd be willing to call him as a witness. Isn't that right?" 

"Yes, but-" _no, no, no_ "-do you have any such evidence?" 

"Well, no, but it's obvious he's connected to the case, isn't it? Not only was he connected to Mr. Wright's disbarrment, he's _Zak's former lawyer_. And he talked to Valant the day before Zak's trial. And he knows Trucy through me! It all fits, doesn't it? He's got a connection to everybody involved in this case! He's obviously been witness to _something_!" 

 _Obviously so,_ Klavier thought grimly. He shook his head. 

"That is all circumstantial, and likely irrelevant. You need evidence, Herr Forehead. This is a court." 

"Come on," Apollo said, annoyed. "I'm not planning on accusing him of the murder or anything- why would Kristoph Gavin have any reason to kill Valant Gramarye? But you know his stupid perfectly manicured hands have got to be in this somewhere. We've got to put him on the stand and drag it out of him- or at least try." 

Klavier felt like squirming. "So you have no qualms, then- about doing this to your mentor. The man who helped you become an attorney." 

Apollo eyed him. "No. No, I don't. Klavier, I know this is hard for you- honestly, if I didn't have Trucy around, I don't know if I ever would have suspected him from the start. He's your brother, I know, but please- try to keep in mind everything that's happened in the last few days. What he's _done_ to you." 

Klavier said nothing, and Apollo continued, after a pause. 

"I'm going to try to put him on the stand after Trucy testifies. I think her testimony should be enough to link him to the events. Klavier, if you can find it in you, help me put him up there. If he's got nothing to hide- there's nothing to worry about, right?" 

He had reached forward to grip Klavier's arm. The warm pressure almost made him angry, because Apollo knew- Apollo had known how much he craved his touch, and yet… Was he being manipulated by this man? 

"If there is sufficient reason to put him on the stand, I will, Herr Forehead," Klavier said, meaning to shrug off Apollo's hand, and finding that he couldn't quite bring himself to. 

"And that's all I can ask for," said Apollo, gripping him tighter. "And Klavier-" 

"What now? Want me to put my- my _guitarist_ on the stand, too?"

"Uh, no. I was just going to say thanks." 

"For throwing my brother under the bus?" 

"For, you know." Apollo let go of his arm and made an annoyed and expansive gesture that failed to convey a single thing.  

"I know?" 

Apollo puffed out his cheeks. "Having faith in me, I guess. Not letting me get away with lying. Helping me figure out my next move. _Those_ things!" 

"Oh," said Klavier. 

"You're a good guy, you know that? And you're a very good prosecutor. You're talented and everything. I wouldn't mind facing off against you again, as long as the trial wasn't- you know- personal." Apollo scratched the back of his head. "And about that other thing that we um, _briefly_ touched on… " 

" _Oh_ ," said Klavier. 

"We can finish that discussion later." 

"We could forget about it instead." 

"No, we're going to have to discuss it," said Apollo, managing to look uncomfortable and determined all at once. "But today, let's- let's get ready to _stall_." 

"Yes," Klavier said unhappily, looking across from them at the row of toilets. "Stall." 

Was that his prospective love life, swirling around the drain? 

"I'm pretty sure we're late at this point, so I'm going to head out first," said Apollo. "You wait a couple minutes, okay?" 

"Ja… okay." 

"Then I'm going to leave. See if I can catch your brother before he goes back in." 

No, thought Klavier, watching him exit, reaching into his pocket to squeeze his phone, if anyone was going to do any catching, that'd be Kristoph. 

He was aware of the choice he had to make now. It was a choice that should have been painfully obvious, and painfully easy. All he had to do was push a few buttons. 

But all he could do was stand there, uselessly, watching the door swing shut behind Apollo, praying that somehow, someway, he would not have to stare across at his brother on the stand anytime soon.

 

* * *

 

When Klavier returned to the courtroom, escorted by the bailiff (having been retrieved from the bathroom just earlier) he was greeted with a sharp whistle from the audience. 

Scanning the crowd did not reveal any obvious culprits, though he did spot one Phoenix Wright, slumped back in his seat, shirt and hair rumpled. It was difficult to tell from that far away, but Klavier could've sworn the man winked at him. 

Klavier could think of a few choice gestures to respond with, but he had bigger things to worry about. The judge was frowning thunderously at him. 

"Prosecutor Gavin, you are late!" 

"My apologies, Herr Judge," Klavier said. "I was a bit- ah, what is the word?- occupied." 

"Oh," said the judge, leaning back slightly. "Oh, well, I suppose no court can stop the call of nature. I'll give you a warning, this time." 

"Most gracious of you, Herr Judge," said Klavier, and glanced over to the defense's bench, fully expecting to be on the bad end of a sour look from Apollo. 

But Apollo wasn't looking at him. He was pale, and looking at Kristoph's impassive face. That didn't help with Klavier's nerves, but at least he wasn't the only one feeling jumpy about the oncoming battle. 

"Very well then, we will resume the trial," said the judge. "When we left off, the defendant had requested to testify. Prosecutor Gavin, are you prepared for us to hear it?" 

"I have zero objections, Your Honor. Let the _biene_ sing." 

The judge nodded to the bailiff, who escorted Trucy to the stand. Trucy herself looked calm, her eyes twinkling, as if this were just another stage. Klavier felt warmly protective of her- she looked so small, especially without her hat. 

"Will the lovely Fräulein state her name and occupation, please," he said, automatically snapping his fingers. 

Trucy favored him with a winning smile. "Trucy Gramarye, magician, at your service!" 

"Charmed," Klavier said, leaning forward. "Will the Fräulein be busy later tonight?" 

This was apparently what it took to snap Apollo out of his funk, for he twitched and shot a dark look in Klavier's direction. 

"I hope not!" said Trucy, and winked at him, inadvertently imitating Phoenix Wright.  

"Ahem," said the judge. "Will the defendant please testify about the events on the day the murder took place?" 

"Of course, Your Honor," said Trucy. "If you don't mind, can I talk about what happened before Daddy's trial, to start with? I think it's relevant to the case." 

"Do you have any objections, Prosecutor Gavin?" 

"Nein," said Klavier, noticing how strained Apollo was starting to look, like he was holding back a really big objection. This should prove to be interesting. "Carry on, Fräulein." 

"Okay," said Trucy. "Um, well, a few days before the trial, Daddy called me over to talk with him. He said that he was probably going to have to leave the country for a while, and that he wanted me to do something for him." 

"Hold it a moment," said Klavier. "You knew that your Papa was going to make his escape before the trial started?" 

"Prosecutor Gavin, it's _my_ job to do the cross-examining," Apollo said. 

"Yes," said Trucy, ignoring the look of apoplexy this caused on Apollo's face. "Is that a problem?" 

"Not at all," said Klavier, smiling. "Please, continue." 

"Well, when we went to the hearing with Mr. Gavin and-" 

The judge interrupted. "Prosecutor Gavin was at your father's hearing?" 

"No, it was the other Mr. Gavin. For a while he was Daddy's defense attorney before he decided to hire Mr. Wright." 

The judge blinked, and the audience muttered. Trucy smiled sweetly. Klavier looked across at his brother, who looked completely unfazed by this revelation. 

"Anyway, that was when Daddy and my brother got into a fight." 

"Objection," Klavier said quickly. "If I may ask what they were fighting about…?" 

"Prosecutor Gavin-" Apollo started angrily, but Trucy cut him off again. 

"I think it was something Mr. Gavin said- because he'd been talking to Uncle Valant, and Uncle Valant told him what our performance schedule was like for the past few months. I think my brother thought it was unfair for me because I was missing school." 

"I see," said Klavier. 

"Er, Mr. Justice, is this testimony really relevant?" asked the judge. 

"No, it isn't," said Apollo, looking daggers across at Klavier, who shrugged. Admittedly he had asked more to satisfy his own personal curiosity.

"Let's get back on track, Fräulein," he said, and Trucy nodded. 

"Anyway, after that, Daddy asked if I could to do a few errands for him on the day of the trial, since he was leaving and everything." 

"And the nature of these errands?" 

"Well, most of them aren't really related to this case," said Trucy, smiling that particular smile of hers again that Klavier was beginning to associate with trickery. "But the last thing he wanted me to do was to take a letter to Uncle Valant." 

That set the galley off, of course, but Klavier himself was not really surprised at the admonition- just that she was admitting it. Apollo was starting to look somewhat green around the gills.

"And did you take the letter?" Klavier prompted. 

"Of course! Daddy told me it would get Uncle Valant out of trouble, and that after that I could go live with A- with my brother while he was gone." 

"Because it contained the forged diary page- the second one," said Apollo. "The one that would give Valant the rights he wanted, _and_ erase his motive for killing Magnifi Gramarye." 

"Yes, even though I didn't know what was in it when picked it up." 

"Picked it up?" 

"Daddy hid it somewhere for me to get after I- after his trial ended. He made it before he was arrested, you see. Actually, when I found it, I-" She hesitated, brow furrowing, looking very much like Apollo. "It was a little different than I imagined it."

"How so?" said Apollo, leaning forward slightly. Apparently this was news to him. 

"It just occurred to me earlier," said Trucy, "that the letter didn't have Daddy's stamp on the envelope." 

"Mr. Gramarye's… stamp?" 

"Objection," said Klavier. "Why should your father put a stamp on a letter he did not intend to mail?" 

"Ah, because he just liked the stamps," said Trucy with a smile. "They had a picture of my mother on them. He put them on everything. When he told me where to find the letter, he said, 'Your mother will be smiling at you when you find it.'" 

"How touching," said the judge, eyes swimming. 

"But the stamp wasn't on the letter," Apollo persisted. 

"No," said Trucy, smile fading somewhat. "But it was definitely the right letter, wasn't it?" 

"Hm," said Apollo. "Nothing was… missing, from the letter, was it?" 

"I don't think so," Trucy said doubtfully. 

"In any case," said Klavier, who was beginning to become uncomfortable with this line of inquiry. "The letter that was in the intended spot was the one you took to Herr Valant the day of the trial, was it not?" 

"Yes," said Trucy. "It took me a little longer than I thought, because Uncle Valant snuck away as soon as he finished testifying. I think he didn't want to have to talk to the police again." She flashed a quick smile. "I had to go all the way to the hotel to give it to him." 

"Describe the events that occurred when you went to give your uncle the letter, Miss Gramarye," said the judge. 

"Well, not much happened," said Trucy, turning away slightly. 

"How did you get into the room, Trucy?" asked Apollo. 

"Oh, I came in through the back." 

"And by the back you mean…?" 

"The back window, of course. I left my rope hanging there from when I was practicing for the show." 

Klavier was beginning to see why Apollo disapproved so much of their act. 

"So you climbed in through the window," Apollo said, shooting Klavier a look- he was thinking of that photograph again, no doubt. "Then what happened?" 

"Then I gave Uncle Valant the letter," said Trucy. She had drawn her arms close against herself. "I thought it would make him happy, but he wasn't." 

"He was upset?" 

"Yes. He was angry at Daddy, but I think he just felt… bad." She looked briefly forlorn. "Then he hid the letter in his cane." 

"The moment of the poisoning, no doubt," said the judge. "Did you see Mr. Gramarye prick his finger and put it in his mouth?" 

"I don't know," said Trucy. "I… I wasn't watching him. I was packing my things." 

"I see," said the judge. "Well, the police station informed me just earlier that a wound with small traces of atroquinine was found on Valant's finger, so we can effectively agree that Mr. Justice's theory is sound. Right, Prosecutor Gavin?" 

"Ja," said Klavier, wondering why this was the first he was hearing of this. Perhaps that had been one of the texts he'd never looked at. 

"Anyway, a little while later, we heard sirens," said Trucy. "Uncle Valant told me I should leave, because he knew I didn't want to be questioned again. So I left." Her voice faltered. "That was the last time I saw him." 

All was quiet for a moment. Then Apollo said, "You left through the window." 

"Yes, Polly." 

He winced at the nickname. "With this, we can infer that my client is not the one in that photograph, and did not plant that-" 

"Objection," Klavier interrupted. "Herr Forehead, at this point, it hardly matters. The defendant herself has admitted to being on the scene when the murder occurred." 

"Yes, but the existence of false evidence linking her to the crime-" 

"Hardly means she did not commit it," said Klavier. "Perhaps someone had a grudge against her. Either way, unless you can prove that there was someone else capable of planting that pin-" He hesitated, for Apollo's face had suddenly gone very pale. He had been acting rather strange since the trial had restarted- where had that sudden burst of confidence gone? 

He had to provide him with an opening somehow, one that would slip under Kristoph's notice and get Kristoph on the stand all at the same time. It made his head hurt. 

"I don't see any need for further testimony," the judge began, but Klavier's arm shot out in a dramatic point. 

"Objection!" 

"Prosecutor Gavin?" 

"I would like to request that the defendant testify as to where she went after leaving the hotel," said Klavier. 

"Hm," said the judge, blinking rapidly. "I'm not sure I see how that is relevant to the case at hand." 

"Humor me, Herr Judge," said Klavier with an easy smile. It betrayed nothing of how desperate he was feeling at the moment. How he had mocked Phoenix Wright's famed bluffing techniques once- now he could practically feel the man's grin on him from out in the audience. 

"Very well," the judge said doubtfully. "Does the defense have any objections?" 

"No, Your Honor," said Apollo, shaking his head. He was frowning- he had to know what Klavier was up to- but he still looked very uneasy for some reason. Klavier didn't dare look directly at Kristoph; he was already afraid that his ploy had been too transparent. 

"Then, Miss Gramarye, please testify as to what you did after you left the hotel via, er, your own unique method," said the judge. 

"All right," said Trucy, tapping her chin, looking a bit bewildered. "After I got down from the window, I decided to go look for my brother. At that time of day I thought he'd be at Mr. Gavin's office." 

"Was your brother in some kind of legal trouble, Miss Gramarye?" asked the judge. 

"Oh, no," said Trucy. "He works for Mr. Gavin."

"Does he now! What a strange coincidence," said the judge. "How come I've never heard of this young man before?" 

"Uh, Your Honor," Apollo started, then appeared to give it up. "Trucy, keep going." 

Trucy giggled. "Okay. Like I said, I went to Mr. Gavin's office. My brother wasn't there, but Mr. Gavin was. He gave me some tea." 

For some odd reason, her words gave Klavier a chill. He could not figure out why, though. 

"Then we heard on the news about Uncle Valant." Trucy looked downcast again. "Mr. Gavin was- very kind. He called my brother for me." 

"Hold it, Trucy," said Apollo, rather more gently than Klavier was accustomed to hearing. "Before you heard about Valant, you spent a good deal of time at the office, correct?" 

"Well, yes, a little while," said Trucy. "Mr. Gavin was letting me watch TV." 

"Did you discuss anything about the case with him at that time?" 

"Objection," said Klavier, before Trucy could answer- probably towards the negative, by the look of her expression. "Is there a point to this questioning?" 

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Apollo, half-turning towards Kristoph. "Mr. Gavin saw Trucy directly after the murder occurred. He's a witness!" 

The galley murmured. The judge coughed and banged his gavel twice. 

"Mr. Gavin, is this true?" 

"Yes, it is true that the girl came to my office at that time," said Kristoph. His expression was almost grave. "However, I would prefer not to testify about those events." 

"Is there any particular reason why, Mr. Gavin?" the judge inquired, as Klavier began to feel a bit ill. He wouldn't want to, would he? 

"Personal reasons, Your Honor," said Kristoph. For some reason, this statement had an adverse affect on Apollo, who began to look as ill as Klavier felt. 

"Besides," said Kristoph, in his soft, gentle voice, "I am afraid that my testimony will add nothing to make the defendant look less guilty. There seems to be a sufficient amount of evidence pointing to her, doesn't there, Klavier?" 

His own name felt like a slap to the face. The judge and the audience turned to look at him, and he struggled to maintain his composure.  

"Yes- ja- yes, there is quite a bit of evidence damning the Fräulein. The fact that she knew of the trick cane, and of the victim's habits- the fact that she delivered the deadly letter- the fact that the only other suspect, Zak Gramarye, had no motive-" 

"Ah, and the motive for the defendant?" asked Kristoph. 

"Her motive- her motive-" Klavier felt a little dizzy. "Well, it is obvious she should have a reason to resent Valant Gramarye, for fighting with her father, and then if she knew he would inherit the magic that rightfully should have passed down to her…" He swallowed. "It is a sufficient motive for murder." 

"There we have it," said Kristoph softly. "Means, motive, evidence. Is anything more necessary?" 

"Objection!" Apollo was practically quivering. "There's no evidence directly linking my client to the murder weapon!" 

Kristoph smiled and turned his eyes to Klavier. Numbly, Klavier said, "Herr Justice, currently there is no one else aside from Trucy Gramarye and Zak Gramarye that know of the hidden compartment in the cane. That severely limits the number of people who could have-" 

" _Objection_!" Apollo slammed his fists down on the bench, gritting his teeth. "There is one other person!" 

"What?!" 

The audience rumbled; the judge leaned forward. Klavier's heart was hammering in his chest, for Apollo had turned to glare at Kristoph. 

"There is exactly one other person who would have known all those things, would have had the time and means to plant the pin, and-" Apollo's voice dropped an octave lower. "Who had a very good motive." 

"Mr. Justice," the judge said, "before you accuse someone else of this crime, you should be very sure that you have evidence to back it up. This court will penalize you for wasting time." 

"I have evidence, Your Honor," said Apollo. His face was set with an odd, grim determination. He looked at Trucy, who was staring back at him, expression confused and frightened. 

"Then name this suspect," said the judge. 

Klaver got an awful, sickening feeling then, because on Kristoph Gavin's face there was just the slightest hint of a smile. 

Apollo looked down at his clenched fists and said, "It's me, Your Honor."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay and the short update, folks. I plan to hopefully get the next chapter out soon (and maybe we can finally wrap up this courtroom battle once and for all!)

It seemed like eons later when Klavier finally checked his phone to read the texts that Ema Skye had sent him. 

The first: 

 _What? Why shouldn't I test it? I'm gonna test it. I'm testing it right now._  

The second: 

 _Couldn't find much to sample with. Anyway, there was a partial fingerprint caught in the residue and it at least looks like it wasn't Trucy or Valant Gramarye's. There were some of yours, too, you know. I hope you didn't murder anybody._  

The third, which must have come in after the trial had resumed: 

 _That was a joke, just so you know. You don't have to give me the cold shoulder. Anyway, I found something else kind of interesting about the nail polish. Call me._  

The fourth: 

 _I'm seriously not going to tell you unless you call me. Oh, and they found a pinprick on Valant's finger, so golden boy was right on that one. I think I'll tell him about the new evidence instead of you._  

It all would have been very amusing, had not Apollo just been taken away in handcuffs, and Klavier summoned to the judge's chambers. 

He had only seen the man on this and one other occasion before, but he had never imagined that the gentle, befuddled old man could have been induced to active anger, and pace around the lavishly furnished room as he was now.  

"This is unprecedented," he kept saying, shaking his head, brow intensely furrowed. "A defense attorney admitting to his client's crime! Either it is a mad gamble to get the girl off, or…" He had to stop his frenetic pacing to wince and rub his back. 

"Your Honor, please, have a seat," said Klavier, concerned in spite of himself.  

The judge shook his gavel at him. "No time for that, Prosecutor Gavin! Heavens, what is this court coming to! First Mr. Wright gets himself disbarred, and then- ungh." 

Klavier had to step forward quickly and catch his shoulder as he swayed. 

"I must insist, Herr Judge," he said, guiding the man to a leather recliner, which he sank into slowly. "Consider your own health, please." 

"I'm not unhealthy," the judge said crossly. "Why, I eat that cereal every morning- you know, the one from the commercials that the healthy actors eat! But you know, Prosecutor Gavin…" 

"Ja?"  

"I'm not too sure about what I think of a murderer-attorney. That boy had his whole life ahead of him. Why should he kill a magician?" 

"Well, Your Honor," said Klavier patiently- they had already explained Apollo's relationship to Trucy to him more than once, but it seemed not to stick- "hypothetically, it would be for his sister's benefit, as would be admitting to the crime. But there are several holes in this theory; firstly-" 

"Oh, don't talk to me about the case!" exclaimed the judge, bouncing up again with surprising spryness. "You know that's against the rules, to influence my mind outside of court. A penalty for you, Prosecutor Gavin!" 

"Ja, Herr Judge," said Klavier. "Pardon my forwardness." 

"The only thing we should discuss is the best course of action to take," said the judge, stroking his beard. "You understand the problem, don't you?" 

"Quite well," said Klavier, rather wishing he did not. "If Herr Justice is taken into custody, the Fräulein has no defense, and hence will likely lose the trial by default- even if somebody else has admitted to the crime." 

"That is correct," nodded the judge. "Now, I know your brother is actually quite available right now, and has already offered to take over the case, but-" There was suddenly a sharp glint in the old man's eye, a rare shaft of light penetrating the haze. "I don't believe I want to put him on the case." 

"And why is that, Your Honor?" asked Klavier, suppressing a sudden shiver. 

"Hmm, well, I'm not wholly sure," said the judge, stroking his beard with more fervor. "He did mention that he had personal reasons for not wanting to testify about the girl, and to me that smacks of- hmm- overinvolvement. This case seems to be a tangled web of interrelations as it is. But that then leaves us with the question of who, if anyone, will stand for Miss Gramarye." 

"I have an idea," said Klavier.  

"Yes?" said the judge, tapping his gavel against his palm. "Don't waste the court's time, or I'll have to penalize you again, Prosecutor Gavin." 

"Naturally," said Klavier. "But my idea, in any case, is that you simply leave Apollo Justice on the defense's bench." 

"Hm? To do what?" 

"To continue defending Trucy Gramarye, of course." 

"I'm not sure I understand," the judge said, frowning severely. "You want me to allow a criminal to work in my court?" 

" _Potential_ criminal," Klavier stressed. "We don't know that this isn't a desperate ploy of some kind." 

"But what would he do? Stand there and bring up evidence against himself?"

"Probably," said Klavier, thinking to himself, _like the idiot he is_. "But it is the defense's job to make the client seem innocent, ja? And usually that comes at the cost of someone else's freedom. Why should that not include himself?" 

"Hmm." The judge appeared to ponder this for a moment, then shook his head. "No. No, this is much too far-fetched of an-" 

There was a light knock on the door, and without waiting for an answer, Phoenix Wright stepped into the room. 

"Sorry," he said, a faintly laconic smile on his face. "I couldn't help but overhear." 

He seemed to have entirely lost his suit jacket at this point. Klavier glared at him, but the judge creaked over and eagerly shook his hand. 

"Mr. Wright! I thought I saw you in the audience. How have you been?" 

"Just fine, Your Honor," said Phoenix, with no hint of sarcasm apparent on his bestubbled visage. "I just wanted to pop in and offer my two cents on the matter." 

"Of course," said the judge, much to Klavier's chagrin. "Who do you think should stand as the defense for Miss Gramarye?" 

"I agree with the prosecution," said Phoenix. "Surprisingly, since this is a move that would really hurt his case, wouldn't it?" His eyes flicked casually towards Klavier. "But he's right. The confession isn't relevant to the kid's ability to defend his sister. Besides, there's already a little bit of a precedent for this. Remember State vs. Fey in 2016?" 

"Hm, it does sound familiar… Was that the case with Ms. Von Karma and that bizarre 'channeling' business?" 

"That would be State vs. Fey, 2017- or maybe even the one in 2018. No, I'm talking about the murder of Mia Fey. Remember? I was the defense on that one." 

"Oh yes!" The judge's craggy eyes lit up. "You were quite fresh then, weren't you?" 

"Yeah," said Phoenix, a strange look passing over his face- then he shook his head. "Anyway. During the course of that trial, the defense was also accused of the crime. But I decided to defend myself, _and_ my client." 

"Yes, I do remember that," said the judge, blinking. "You got her off, too, didn't you?" 

"Yeah, luckily," said Phoenix. "And it got Redd White put behind bars, too." 

The judge gave an appreciative shudder at the name. 

"My point is, like with that one, this trial may have players in it we haven't even looked in to yet. So let the defense stay on the bench, for now. I'm sure _he_ wouldn't argue with the decision." 

"You make a good argument," said the judge. "Though the fact that the defense has accused _himself_ this time… I will think on it, and make my decision before the trial resumes tomorrow. Thank you for your advice." 

"Sure," said Phoenix. 

"And I will see you tomorrow, Prosecutor Gavin," said the judge, turning back to Klavier. "You seem a little unlucky with the cases you've been assigned so far, I'm afraid to say." 

"Nonsense," Klavier said lightly. "I am enjoying the ride, ja? Numbers and perfect records matter less than the thrill of the crowd, Herr Judge, and they are screaming for more with this one."

"Ha ha," said the judge, blinking. "I don't believe I understood a word you just said. I will retire for a while now, so you should continue your investigation. Goodbye!" 

"Auf Wiedersehen," said Klavier, and made his exit gracefully, nearly shutting the door on Phoenix's nose as he squeezed through after him. 

"Hey, careful," he said, dusting off the front of his shirt for no apparent reason. "And don't I get a thank-you?" 

"For what, exactly?"

"For helping you out, of course. You want the kid to stay on the stand, right? Though I'm not sure why, especially after he pulls a stupid move like that." 

"It is a mystery," Klavier agreed, and turned on his heel and started walking back towards the lobby. The tap-tap of Phoenix's footsteps followed him. 

"Where are you going now?" 

"To do my job." 

"Oh yeah?" 

Klavier cleared the lobby and hesitated with one hand of the door. Phoenix stumbled from trying not to bump into him. 

"Herr Wright." 

"Yeah?" 

"Are you following me?" 

"Nah. No." 

"I see." 

"I was just on my way to the detention center too, and I thought, 'Hey, we could ride our bikes together!" 

Klavier's brow furrowed, trying to imagine Phoenix Wright riding a motorcycle. "Is that so- wait a minute. I have not said that I am going to the detention center." 

"Didn't you? I thought you were going to confront Apollo Justice?" 

Apollo was rubbing off on him, because Klavier gave Phoenix one of his looks. 

"By the way," said Phoenix, rubbing his raspy chin, "I wouldn't count on that going anywhere. I already spoke to the kid. He doesn't want to speak to anyone." 

"What?!" 

"That's what he said." Phoenix shrugged. "I think his heart's set on going to jail." 

" _Phantastisch_ ," muttered Klavier. Convincing Apollo to give up his stupid, noble scheme had been the only idea he had left. It seemed like Apollo had been one step ahead of him again.

"It's weird, him naming himself as a suspect," said Phoenix. "Especially after his first lie failed. I wouldn't have thought it'd be his style." 

"No," said Klavier. Not after the way they had parted just before the trial resumed.

"It's almost like somebody put the idea in his head." 

Klavier turned sharply to stare at him. 

"What do you mean by that?" 

Phoenix smiled. "By the way, why were you so interested on getting your brother on the stand earlier?" 

" _Verdammt_ ," said Klavier, lowly, and slammed his way through the lobby doors out into the bright sunlight. The sidewalk in front of the courthouse was dazzlingly white, and he was still blinking at it when Phoenix stood next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey." 

"What is it, Herr Wright." 

"You got any evidence that Apollo Justice didn't commit the murder?" 

There was a sour taste in Klavier's mouth. "Have you met him?" 

Phoenix laughed. 

"We'll need a little more than that to convince the court. But it'll be all right. The real killer left behind a trail, like a little slug." 

"Herr," said Klavier, "if the killer is- is who you and I suspect it is- there will be no trail." 

"Just who do we both suspect it is?" 

"Don't play dumb," Klavier snapped. 

"Easy, now," said Phoenix, taking his hand from Klavier's shoulder. "All right. You got me. I talked to both kids, and I formed a theory, yes. But even I'm not completely sure I'm right." 

"Because there is no evidence," said Klavier. 

"Hm," said Phoenix. "Maybe there isn't now. But why don't we take a little trip down to the detention center and see if we can't figure something out?"

"You just said Apollo Justice does not want anyone seeing him." 

"Yeah, and who said we were going to see Apollo Justice?" 

 

* * *

 

When Klavier was thirteen years old, Kristoph had helped him enroll in one of the finest law academies in Germany.  

"You've been learning German since you were four," he had told Klavier. "Our family still has connections over there as well. I think it is an environment that you will thrive in."

As it turned out, it did not matter so much how well he spoke German, if he spoke it with an American accent, or how well-connected his family was, with a name like _Klavier_. Mostly what seemed to matter to the other well-groomed students of the academy was that he was foreign, and intelligent, and much younger and smaller than they were. 

It was two months into the school year when Kristoph booked a flight back to Germany for a special meeting with the headmaster. 

"You will have to take him out," the man had told his brother, quite bluntly, in German. "He causes trouble with the other students wherever he goes. Furthermore, concerns have been raised about his age, and he has a reputation for-" 

"I'm sorry," said Kristoph, in that particular tone of voice that made Klavier stiffen up in the tall-backed chair he had been swinging his legs in. "I wasn't aware that the students of this school had such a discipline problem." 

"Herr Gavin, do not test me," the headmaster said. "The students are merely boys. They cannot help but find targets. I told you when you had him enrolled that this would not be a suitable arrangement for him." 

"Hmm," said Kristoph. "They cannot help themselves, you say. Interesting. You may be right." 

"Yes, so you see, it is imperative that he be-" 

"I notice that you have not suggested expelling my brother," said Kristoph. 

The headmaster hesitated. "Well, we felt that it would be better if-" 

"If he was withdrawn quietly, by me." Kristoph was smiling now. "No, no, I understand. If my brother is expelled when he has done nothing wrong, it looks bad for the school, doesn't it? It makes it seem as though the teachers are ruled by their own students." 

"Mr. Gavin! How dare-!" 

Kristoph had smiled a little harder, and the man cut himself off, sweat becoming visible on his brow. Klavier watched, marveling, hooking his legs around the chair's lower rungs to keep them still. 

"I have an idea," Kristoph said. "Instead of withdrawing my brother, I will ask that you inject a little more- hmm, what is the word- _spine_ into your educators and have them discipline the ones responsible for cutting my brother's hair and throwing his possessions into the pond. I don't particularly care how you do it, though I could make a few suggestions of my own if you like. That way, I will not have to bring my knowledge of litigation against you when I drag you to court for the outrageous treatment he has been receiving." 

"You can't possibly think that you could succeed with that!" The man's face was getting purple. "This is a _law_ school! Our alumni work at the most prestigious firms in the country!" 

"Hm, yes." Kristoph gave a sad little chuckle. "I can only imagine the state of those litigation firms if the oafish creatures you call students are the ones working there." 

The headmaster was redder than a fire engine, and seemed entirely unable to speak, aside from weak puffing noises now and then. Kristoph adjusted his glasses and shook his head with a smile. 

"I jest, of course. But I do ask that you consider extending the trial period for my brother at least a mite longer, perhaps to the end of the term, hmm? And see what you can do about those rambunctious young men." 

His demeanor was suddenly so kind and charming that Klavier could tell that the hapless headmaster, who was normally so strict and unyielding, was thrown for a loop.  

"That seems fair," he said, weakly, and Klavier knew that his brother's famed cross-examination techniques had got to him: he was as pliant as a snared hare now. 

"Thank you," Kristoph said, tone very warm. "I'm glad we had this meeting; it was productive, sir." 

The headmaster opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then nodded. Kristoph motioned towards Klavier, who hastily got up and left the room with him. He risked a last glance at the headmaster and saw the man groping blindly for a chair, a bewildered and shell-shocked expression on his face, before the door swung shut. 

"Klavier," Kristoph said, the warmth evaporating from his voice, and Klavier snapped to attention. 

"Yes?" 

"I'm expecting them to comply with my requests and punish the ones that did this to you." As they walked, one of his hands brushed along the ragged fringe of Klavier's hair. "I'll stay in Germany for a while. Contact me when they have received an appropriate discipline. We will have you taken out of the school then." 

"I'll be leaving the school after all?" Klavier asked, confused, though rather not unhappy at the thought. 

"Obviously you cannot learn in an environment where others resent you," Kristoph said, the merest trace of irritation coming into his tone. "Especially if the resentment comes from the staff. No. We will have you taken out, and see that it leaks to the media: such horrible bullying at such a prestigious school. Their reputation will be ruined- I expect that they will have to make a public apology. It will be a good incentive for you to get into the other school I've been considering instead." 

"I see," said Klavier. Did he dare wonder that this had been Kristoph's plan all along? No, the annoyance he was picking up from his brother was real this time. 

"I wish you had lasted at least a full year," he said. "I wish you did not have to be so-" His fingers flicked at something invisible. Klavier could guess the word he was trying to think of: it was usually some variant of _flashy_. 

"Klavier," Kristoph said, giving him the full benefit of his stare for the first time since he had arrived, "you are smiling." 

"Am I?" 

"Yes." Kristoph looked faintly discomfited now. Klavier could guess why. _He doesn't know why I'm so happy right now_. 

"I'll be pleased to leave the school," he said. "I haven't made any friends." 

"Of course," said Kristoph, looking more relaxed. His brother could understand his need for companionship even if he himself was above such lowly desires. "I am certain you will make friends at the next academy." 

"Yes," said Klavier, wanting to shake his head himself. Kristoph never understood! He would be bewildered if Klavier said that he was just happy that his brother had stood up for him. But it was almost funny, in a sad way, and he found himself chuckling a little. 

Kristoph produced one of his rare frowns. 

"What's so funny?" 

Ah, that was dangerous. If Kristoph thought Klavier was actually laughing at him, his nastiest streak would show. There was nothing Kristoph loathed more than the impression that he was being made a fool of. 

"I really am just happy about getting to change schools," said Klavier, injecting all the earnestness he could manage into his tone. Still, he couldn't resist adding, "And I'm happy I got to see you." 

"Hm, are you," said Kristoph, face relaxing into a smile. But it did not fool Klavier; underneath that smile was the sad truth of his brother: _I do not know why you would be happy to see me, but I will accept it_. 

Kristoph could never understand things like that. In a way, for all his sly speech and manipulation, he was like a child, unable to grasp basic human concepts like warmth and affection. Sometimes Klavier, young as he was, stayed up late worrying about him. _What had happened to him_? What had happened to him in the time before Klavier had been born, before he had been there to-

Protect, yes, protect his brother; that had always been his dearest dream. To give him back what he was missing. Because Klavier knew that if he searched hard enough, there was some part of Kristoph, bewildered and unsure as he was, that loved him and stood up to headmasters and ruined them to protect his little brother. 

After all, why else had he been so eager to help Klavier fulfill his dream, had always encouraged his studies, had practically raised him when their neglectful parents had all but forgotten he existed? 

He knew Kristoph better than anyone else, Understood him better than anyone else. He could hardly wait, as he trotted beside his brother's longer stride on his slightly pudgy, thirteen-year-old legs, to grow up enough to work beside him. 

They would be an unstoppable team. And someday he would save Kristoph. Save him from whatever demons plagued him. 

Until then, he had to protect him. 

Protect him… 

"Klavier. Hey, Klavier." 

That was Phoenix Wright, in the present, shaking his shoulder. 

"Sorry," said Klavier.  

"Did you hear what she said?" 

"No," said Klavier, though that was obviously a lie. 

On the other side of the thick glass, Trucy Wright gave him a small, understanding smile. 

"Prosecutor Gavin, I said that I remembered about the mug. The mug that was found at the crime scene. I remembered it because I drank from it on the day of Daddy's trial. Tea. Mr. Gavin handed it to me in his office." 

Her fingers curled, remembering. 

"He used a cloth to hand it to me because he said it was so hot." 

"Yes," said Klavier. " _Ja_. That sounds like something he would do." 

"Are you okay?" Phoenix actually looked worried for him. "You look a little unfocused there, buddy." 

"I'm fine," said Klavier, quoting Apollo. How fitting. Apollo had lied when he said it, too.


	18. Chapter 18

"There’s one major problem, of course."

Klavier and Trucy both turned their eyes on Phoenix, who was sitting on the countertop in front of the glass. In the sickly artificial light of the detention center, his skin looked pallid, and every prick of his stubble stood out. Klavier had always hated the atmosphere the place had; even with the bitter aftertaste of disinfectant always lingering in the air the place never failed to leave him feeling moist and grimy by the time he exited.

"With the mug?" asked Trucy. On the other side of the glass she was sitting with her chin in her arms. She looked exhausted; Klavier couldn’t blame her.

"Yes." Phoenix lifted Klavier’s phone, which he had brought up the evidence photos on, and paged to the correct one with his finger. 

"I really need to get one of these," he commented. “With the big screen. It’s like a little computer, or something!"

Trucy and Klavier exchanged a look of mutual pity for the older generation, though her face quickly smoothed into a little smile.

"Here it is," said Phoenix, laying the phone back on the counter so that they could all see it. “It’s got Trucy’s prints on it, of course, and traces of atroquinine inside. But nothing from Kristoph Gavin."

Klavier visibly flinched at the name, and Trucy gave him a sympathetic look.

"But what if I testify that I saw it, Mr. Wright?"

"You’re the accused," he reminded her, gently. “Your words bear a little less weight than the other witnesses’. Especially because you didn’t bring it up earlier. That just makes it look like you’re making it up at the last minute."

"Hm!" said Trucy, tapping her chin. “But I did think it looked a little similar before- it was just that there was a detail that was strange. I thought it had a logo or sticker on it before, or something."

"Yes," said Klavier, “that would be- something that could be peeled or scratched off later, to make you doubt your memory."

"That’s really sneaky," said Trucy. “I’m kind of impressed, actually."

"Meticulous to a fault- that’s Defense Attorney Gavin," said Phoenix. “He’s always got a plan for every little detail. It makes sense."

Klavier drummed his fingers on the steel counter and said nothing.

"I hope he doesn’t have a way of listening in on our conversation  _here_ ," said Trucy, suddenly going a little pale.

"I doubt it," said Phoenix, though he was sneaking glances around too, peering suspiciously at the security camera. “Hopefully he’s got more important things to consider. After all, we still don’t have any real evidence."

"In this case, it might be prudent to see if the suspect has any matching mugs in his office," Klavier said.

"Great idea," said Phoenix, visibly brightening, and he and Trucy both looked expectantly at Klavier.

"I’m not going through my brother’s things!"

"No, no, we wouldn’t want you in any danger," Phoenix said hastily. “Apollo told me about the, uh, incident with the wine bottle."

"I’m not in any danger," Klavier said, and now Trucy and Phoenix were exchanging pity-filled glances over  _him_.

"Prosecutor Gavin, I know this is really hard for you…" Perhaps something in his expression warned her, for she trailed off for a moment. “But please remember, if Mr. Gavin is innocent, then he won’t have anything to worry about, right?"

"Kristoph’s innocence is not what he’s worried about, Trucy."

Phoenix had cut in before Klavier could respond, and now he shrugged.

"It’s a little more complicated than that, right?"

"It doesn’t matter," said Klavier. “There is enough suspicion on him to warrant his presence on the stand. This, I am aware of."

"Suspicion but no evidence," Phoenix pointed out again. “Now, if he were a normal witness, it might not be such a big deal. I’d just go ahead and press him with everything I had and trust that eventually the lies would contradict the evidence."

"You must inspire such confidence within your clients, Herr Wright."

"Hey, it usually works. Except this last time." 

"Ja," said Klavier, and then suddenly recalled how he and Apollo had suspected Kristoph for forging that fateful evidence- that had been the original reason for him to be up on the stand, had it not? A thought began to prick at him.

"But like I was saying, I’m pretty sure that won’t work with your brother. He’s not going to break. He’s got every little lie worked out, down to the tiniest detail. Isn’t that right, Prosecutor?"

"Hm?" Klavier’s fingers were starting to tap-tap to an unheard beat. “Ja, of course. There will be no evidence. Putting him on the stand will probably amount to nothing more than a waste of time."

"Probably, huh?"

"Probably."

Phoenix and Trucy exchanged another look. 

"Well, that’s comforting. I guess we’ve got nothing to lose by giving it a shot."

"Aside from Apollo," Trucy pointed out.

Aside from my brother, Klavier thought.

"Well, and aside from you, Trucy," Phoenix added.

"To sum it all up, we have everything to lose," said Klavier, smiling.

"I guess it always works out this way. But you can’t give up. Keep believing in your client, Kla- oh, wait a minute."

Klavier laughed, and Trucy giggled, putting her hands over her mouth. Phoenix rubbed the back of his head with a grimace.

"You’re so honest, I keep forgetting you’re a prosecutor, kid."

Klavier bit back a retort in the same vein, figuring that now would be a rather cruel time to joke about Phoenix’s competence as a defense attorney.

"Ja, I try to be as corrupt as I can, but even the best make mistakes, Herr Wright."

Phoenix’s mouth twitched. Belatedly Klavier realized that that statement hadn’t been much better.

"Visiting hours are almost over," he said, glancing at the time on Klavier’s phone. “I think you and I will be needing to do some legwork before tomorrow, Prosecutor Gavin."

"You’ll have to keep up better this time, Herr Wright."

"Hey, my baby’s a ten-speed, but she’s only as fast as my legs can go. She can’t compare with your purple nightmare."

Klavier made a rather ugly face for a moment, then regained his composure enough to shake his head.

"Actually, I think you will have to go ahead of me anyway, Herr Wright. I have some business to finish up here first."

"Oh?" Phoenix raised his eyebrows. “You’re not thinking of dropping in on our red-suited friend, are you?"

"Nein, not just now. I need to make a phone call."

"I see." For a moment Phoenix looked at him, appraising, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then."

"I suppose," said Klavier. Hopefully he meant just in the audience.

"Wait, Prosecutor Gavin," said Trucy, sitting up suddenly. “I want to talk to you alone for a minute."

Immediately Phoenix, who had had his hand on the door handle, turned and raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, don’t you kids do anything that would make her big brother cry."

"Oh, Mr. Wright," Trucy said. “You know Prosecutor Gavin would never lay a finger on me!"

"I guess that’s right," said Phoenix, giving Klavier a rather sly look, and left.

What was he thinking, exactly, Klavier wondered, but shook his head. Trucy was lightly rapping on the glass.

"What is it, Fräulein?"

"Um." She had crossed her arms, looking faintly uncomfortable. “Well, it’s about your brother."

Klavier’s voice was flat. “Ja?"

"I just wanted to say… if he’s done these terrible things, it’s better for the truth to be told, isn’t it? For him and for you."

Klavier sighed. “Yes, Fräulein. I understand you are trying to be kind, but…"

"I mean, I understand how you feel."

At this, Klavier only smiled blandly.

"Thank you. Now I really must be going-"

"Prosecutor Gavin, there is a fifty-fifty chance that my daddy shot my mommy in the head."

For a moment Klavier was completely still, and then he chose to sit down in the little metal chair.

Trucy did not look very distressed; she was smiling slightly, though it was a rather strange smile.

"Or Uncle Valant might have been the one who shot her. They’ll never know."

"Fräulein," said Klavier, slowly. “How…?"

"It was a trick," said Trucy. “She had what I and Apollo have- the trick of seeing things more clearly than most people, and they thought it was safe. But that time it didn’t work." She looked down at her hands in her lap. “I only found out two years ago, Prosecutor Gavin. And it was by accident, when Grandpa was very sick and not in his right mind. He talked to me about it in the hospital. All three of them knew, and they kept it a secret."

"Trucy…"

"So you see." That chipper smile flashed back on full force. “I understand."

Klavier couldn’t help thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Apollo just a few hours earlier. What had he said about Zak Gramarye? _I know he did something, something in his past he’s been trying to escape from._

_It might even be murder._

How twisted had the roots of the Gramarye tree become?

"Now Daddy’s gone, and Uncle Valant and Grandpa are… gone too," Trucy said. “And it’s so silly. They should have just told someone. It was an accident. But Grandpa didn’t want to scare away the audience, so he lied and said my mother went away. And you know, even with a big audience, I think… I think the show was worse, after Mommy died. Because it was made out of a big lie."

Klavier rested his elbow on the counter so he could prop his cheek on his fist.

"Apollo understands, doesn’t he."

Trucy laughed. “Apollo sees lies, and he hates them! I think that’s why he just can’t let go of you, Mr. Prosecutor."

Klavier laughed now, a slightly giddy and slightly guilty laugh.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, Mr. Gavin’s done nothing but lie to you, hasn’t he?"

Klavier was silent. She put a hand up against the glass.

"I love my daddy, you know. But I hope… I hope if he ever comes back, he tells the truth about my mommy."

"Ja… that would be best, wouldn’t it?"

"So you see…" Trucy looked quite serious now, and balled her little gloved hands into fists. “Isn’t it better if Mr. Gavin admits what he’s done too?"

Klavier laughed, a fuller laugh. “Ja, it is, isn’t it! Though one does not really get my brother to admit anything."

"Then maybe you’ll have to prove it, right, Prosecutor Gavin? So he doesn’t have a choice."

"You are beginning to look a little bloodthirsty, Fräulein," Klavier commented, a bit taken aback by her intensity.

"Prosecutor Gavin." She looked  _deadly_  serious now. “Your brother got my brother in a whole lot of trouble. If I could, I would take Mr. Gavin outside, take off my gloves, and punch him into the next century."

"I- I am impressed," said Klavier, a bit strained, for the mental image he was getting was a true treasure in itself. “Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Okay," said Trucy. “Then don’t let Apollo get away with his stupid idea about stupidly accusing himself tomorrow."

"I promise I will give him as hard a time as I possibly can," said Klavier, trying to match her seriousness and utterly failing. “He won’t even have a chance to finish his arguments before I destroy his logic."

"Good." Trucy looked fiercely pleased. “I trust you, Prosecutor Gavin. I know you’ll do the right thing."

"Ja," said Klavier. “The right thing."

For the first time in a while, he was beginning to feel more sure about what that was.

* * *

 

"Court is now in session!"

The bang of the judge’s gavel should not have echoed so much, but whenever Klavier looked back to remember the events of that day, it always did, the sound lingering for a long time. Everything in slow motion.

Initially, though, things seemed to happen very quickly.

"Like I said yesterday," Apollo was saying, pale and grim-faced from a night in the detention center. “I killed Valant Gramarye."

Klavier eyed him. They had kept the handcuffs on him, albeit with a chain that allowed some mobility, and somehow it was ridiculous. Apollo Justice, a prisoner? A criminal?

He would have to turn this on its head quickly.

"Herr Justice," he said, snapping his fingers. “Since you have confessed, you may testify to the court, ja? About just how and why you committed this crime. Does the Honorable Herr agree?"

"Oh, yes," said the judge, blinking slowly- he seemed rather distracted today, for some reason.

"I hope he’s got a good poker face," Phoenix commented softly beside him. Klavier twitched. Yes, that was happening as well: Phoenix Wright had appointed himself Klavier’s assistant today. He had already been idling by the bench when Klavier came in.

"If you talk too much I will ask him to kick you out of court, hmm?"

"How much is too much?" Phoenix gave a shrug. “By the way, Gavin Senior doesn’t look too happy over there."

He hadn’t needed to point that out. Klavier had felt his brother’s cold stare on him since he had entered the courtroom. Likely he was not happy to see who Klavier was associating with.

"He will get more unhappy," he relied softly. If everything went according to plan. If not… well, Klavier would avoid wine if he could. Trucy was right. The time for lies and secrets was over. He had to lay all his cards out on the table today, show his brother he would not be cowed into silence any longer.

Easier said than done, of course, because Kristoph’s eyes kept giving him chills.

"Mr. Justice," said the judge, “please testify as to why you committed the crime. Be warned that you are standing here today with special permission, and that can be revoked if the court finds you out of order."

"I understand," said Apollo. “And I want the court to fully understand what happened that day."

"My motivation for committing the crime was very simple. It was for my sister, Trucy Gramarye. I thought the murder would be for her own good."

Klavier glanced over at Trucy and found her already starting to look annoyed. She gave Klavier a severe look, so like Apollo that he wanted to laugh.

Apollo seemed to pick up that something was passing between them, for his eyes briefly flickered in confusion, but then he continued.

"The dispute between Zak and Valant started as soon as Magnifi became ill. It was obvious to me that it wouldn’t stop when he died and picked one of them as his successor. Meanwhile, Trucy was in the middle, like a pawn they were using in their game." Real anger colored his voice. “One of them had to go down for her sake. And it was easy enough to pick Valant. That way, Trucy would be able to inherit the magic rights from her father."

"Objection," said Klavier. Apollo stiffened.

"You have a problem with any of that, Prosecutor Gavin?"

"Quite a bit," Klavier said, smiling. “Or at least, two main issues. First, the timing of the crime."

"What do you mean, the timing? What about it?!"

Apollo was remarkably defensive today, but who could blame him, Klavier thought, watching as he sweated and tugged his wrists against his handcuffs.

"It’s very simple. Magnifi Gramarye had been in the hospital for over a year, had he not? The dispute had been going on between his apprentices for a long time. You say it was obvious that you had to kill one. But why did you wait until now, the worst possible time, to do it?"

"Worst possible time?" The judge blinked. “What do you mean by that, Prosecutor Gavin?"

"Think about it." Klavier shrugged. “The murder occurred directly after the trial of Zak Gramarye, which ended, this court may recall, with him looking very guilty- and vanishing. Herr Justice, without a rival for Valant to fight, your motive effectively vanishes as well."

The galley was murmuring, and the judge nodded.

"Prosecutor Gavin has a good point. Do you have anything to counter his claim, Mr. Justice?"

"Yes." Apollo’s fists were clenching and unclenching. “The timing of his death was very unfortunate. But by that point, it was out of my control. I had planned the crime well before Zak’s trial. It just took that long for Valant to prick his finger."

"How long, Herr Forehead? How far ahead did you plant the pin?"

Apollo was squirming. “A- a week, I think-"

"Objection!" Klavier shook his head. “Magnifi Gramarye had just died, and his apprentice was arrested for the murder! By that point you would still have eliminated one of them by default!"

"Prosecutor Gavin-!"

"Furthermore," and here Klavier leaned forward, “how did you acquire the poison, Herr Justice? As I understand it, it is remarkably difficult to obtain in this country. How did  _you_ manage to afford it on a meager assistant’s salary?!"

Apollo slammed his fists on the table, chain clattering.

"You could make the same arguments against Trucy’s involvement!"

"And that is what this is about, isn’t it? It is about protecting her still! Apollo Justice, you would never have considered this plan on your own! You would not risk hurting your sister like this- by killing her uncle!"

Apollo glared at him. “He’s not her uncle!"

"Regardless!" Klavier stood firm in the face of that glare. “It is obvious to every person in this court what you are trying to do. You are not the murderer."

"I AM!"

The volume of Apollo’s voice had shrilled up to earsplitting levels. Klavier saw several members of the audience flinch. The judge banged his gavel.

"Order! The defense will not scream about his guilt!"

Apollo just glared, red-eyed, shaking.

"Poor kid," Phoenix muttered, making Klavier jump- he’d nearly forgotten the man was there. “He knows he’s lost everything at this point."

"Not if I can prove his innocence," Klavier murmured back.

"Doesn’t matter," said Phoenix, eyes on Apollo’s raw-looking wrists as they trembled. “Even if you do, he’s lost his sister and he’s lost his job. No one’s going to hire an attorney crazy enough to pull a stunt like this."

Klavier opened his mouth, but found he couldn’t argue. His heart sank.

"All he’s got left is to try and make this move work. He’s desperate."

"It won’t work." Klavier felt warm anger in his breast. “He is a fool if he gives up this easily. And I’ll prove it to him."

"Yeah, I know." Phoenix was grinning. “Let him have it, Klavier."

"There seems to be serious doubt as to the validity of your motive, Mr. Justice," the judge was saying, banging his gavel a few more times for good measure as the audience finally settled. “Do you still maintain that you are guilty?"

"I do."

"Then please describe how you committed the murder."

Apollo’s eyes flashed across to Klavier- angry, he was really angry. That was all right. Klavier rather liked his anger, it was fierce and straightforward and simple, so much different from… well, he liked it better.

"I had planned it in advance," said Apollo, slowly. “Like I said. I must have set the pin earlier than I thought, anyway. It’s hard to remember because I was in a daze."

Never, thought Klavier. Not with those eyes.

"Anyway, I got the atroquinine. Having connections to the Gramarye family means I get certain privileges, anyway. I knew about Valant’s cane. Trucy didn’t tell me- she never gives away secrets like that- but one night before Zak’s case, he got drunk in our office and showed me the secret compartment."

Next to Klavier, Phoenix chuckled dryly. “Good going. No wonder Magnifi picked Zak over this guy."

"Later, I waited for Valant to put his cane down," Apollo continued. “I set up the pin, and then waited for my trap to get sprung. It was just bad luck that Magnifi died right afterwards."

"Objection!"

Klavier started. That had not been him. The clear, high voice belonged to Trucy Gramarye, who was standing up in the defendant’s chair looking sheepish.

"Sorry! I got caught up. But Mr. Judge, can I say something?"

The judge looked a bit flabbergasted. “Young lady-"

"I promise it’s really, really good! And related to my brother’s testimony." Trucy was at her most endearing, the picture of adorable conviction. The judge had no choice but to thaw.

"All right, but keep your statement brief."

"Thank you, Your Honor!" Trucy chirped.

"Trucy-"

That was Apollo. Trucy cut him off with a sweeping wave, smiling for the audience’s attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen! There’s a very good reason Polly doesn’t really want to say that he put the pin in Uncle Valant’s cane more than a week before the murder."

Apollo was looking very unhappy. Maybe Kristoph had been on to something when he’d wanted to make her his assistant, Klavier thought. She was deceptively sharp-witted.

"And why is that?" asked the judge, round-eyed.

"Because!" Trucy crossed her arms and shook her head with a smile, to the extent that Klavier had to wonder if she was  _intentionally_  imitating Apollo. “The day before Grandpa died, we did a show! And in that show, Uncle Valant made flowers pop out of his cane!"

"Ah," said Klavier. “And to set that trick…"

"He has to reach into the compartment, of course."

Apollo looked green. The galley had gone into quite a ruckus. Someone shouted, “Get that crazy attorney off the bench!"

"Really, Prosecutor Gavin, I thought you would’ve looked that up," said Trucy, looking stern. “It was in the papers. ‘The Gramarye Troupe’s Final Act.’"

"Sorry, Fräulein. You are just so lovely in the spotlight," said Klavier, quite earnestly. “And you are absolutely correct. Herr Justice, you have no real motive, do you?"

Apollo stared at him. Klavier could see his lips moving as he struggled to articulate a retort. Best not to let that happen.

"Before we dismiss this testimony, however… There is one thing you mentioned that I would like to examine in more detail."

Apollo looked extremely wary. “And what’s that, Prosecutor Gavin?"

"The incident where you learned about Herr Gramarye’s cane." Klavier was snapping his fingers. “Could you go into that in more detail?"

"Prosecutor Gavin," said the judge, “this court is already prepared to dismiss Mr. Justice’s confession. No further testimony is needed."

"If the court would be patient for one moment, the testimony should prove very relevant," said Klavier.

The judge paused, something seeming to occur to him. “Ahem. Very well, then."

"Then please proceed, Herr Justice."

Apollo bit his lip, still looking suspicious, but it was clear the judge’s words had had an effect on him. Phoenix was right; he was desperate for the charges not to be dismissed.

"Okay. I don’t know why, but… It was the night before Zak’s preliminary hearing. Valant came in to talk to Mr. Gavin, but he was on the phone in the other room. Valant was already drunk. He was upset." Apollo looked grim. “I think he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to do in the actual trial. Everyone knows how that turned out, but… I think his conscience was torn."

"How did the cane come up?"

"He got a little wild," Apollo said, grimacing at the memory. “He was shouting and throwing things around. I was trying to calm him down, and I asked about the show. That’s when he started saying his magic was worthless, that he was just a cheap charlatan without Magnifi’s help. He showed me his cane to prove it to me. He said it was a child’s trick."

"Oh, Uncle Valant," Klavier heard Trucy say.

"That’s when I decided it would be better to kill him," Apollo said quickly.

"Ignoring that," said Klavier, “which is frankly quite ridiculous- were you the only one able to hear what he was saying?"

"Yes, because the office was empty except for us."

"Us being…?"

"Valant and I, of course!"

"But Herr Justice, you mentioned a third person just earlier."

Kristoph’s gaze, which had never really left Klavier and his ‘assistant,’ sharpened considerably. Klavier took a shaky breath.

"The truth is right in your grasp," Phoenix murmured, leaning closer to him. “Don’t lose sight of it for a second."

"Shut up, Herr Wright, I know what I am doing," said Klavier.

Phoenix laughed and squeezed his shoulder.

"You’re talking about Mr. Gavin," Apollo said, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. He was staring at Phoenix now, as if noticing he was there for the first time. “Yes, he was at the office then. But he was in the other room. On the phone."

"Ja, that makes it seem unlikely that he would have heard anything," Klavier said smoothly, “except that you described Herr Gramarye’s actions as quite ‘wild,’ did you not? Would you have said he was shouting?"

"Well…" A deep frown appeared on Apollo’s face. “Yes, he was. But not when he talked to me about the cane."

"Hmm," said Klavier. “Let us leave this testimony for a moment. The following day was the preliminary hearing, correct? When you got into the altercation with Herr Zak Gramarye."

"Yes."

"Would you care to describe the events of  _that_  incident for the court?"

"Prosecutor Gavin…" The judge suddenly seemed to think better of what he was saying. “Never mind, testify, Mr. Justice, if you would."

Apollo’s gaze had become less angry at this point than thoughtful. Klavier could see him trying not to sneak a glance at Kristoph- who looked, of course, as serene as ever.

"It was after the hearing. We were all in the lobby- Trucy and I, Mr. Gavin, and Zak and Valant. Mr. Gavin came up to me and mentioned that Zak had said- something." Apollo coughed. “That’s not really important. I got a little angry, so I went to confront him. We, uh, couldn’t seem to resolve our differences the normal way. After a few minutes Mr. Gavin and Valant came to break us apart."

"Naturally," said Klavier. A man the size of Zak Gramarye would have easily knocked Apollo flat with one punch. “And, at the time- do you recall if Valant Gramarye was holding his cane when he came to help?"

A sort of dark look passed across Apollo’s face. “No. No he wasn’t. He went to pull Zak off of me, and… he gave Mr. Gavin his cane to hold while he did."

Dead silence in the courtroom. In it, only one person moved: Kristoph Gavin, smiling and shaking his head.

The judge said, “Prosecutor Gavin, with this testimony, are you trying to suggest…?"

"I would merely like to ask that Kristoph Gavin testify," said Klavier. “I think it is clear he is connected enough to the-"

"Objection!"

Kristoph’s voice was as smooth and relaxed as ever. He chuckled.

"Your Honor, I have to admit that I’ve been wondering why it is that you won’t penalize my brother. He has clearly not been acting the part of a prosecutor for some time now."

"Mr. Gavin," said the judge, “if you would like to refuse to testify-"

"I did not say that," said Kristoph. “Indeed, I suppose I have no choice, now that my brother has worked so hard to cast suspicion on me." He shook his head again, looking regretful. “And Justice… this was your plan all along, wasn’t it? I must say, it hurts me a little."

"Then take the stand, Mr. Gavin," said Apollo, fists balled up tight. The handcuffs knocked loudly against his bracelet. “Let everyone hear what you have to say."

"Very well." Kristoph looked ruefully up at the judge. “Your Honor, your decision?"

The judge banged his gavel. “There will be a five-minute recess so that the prosecution may prepare this new witness. Court is adjourned!"

* * *

 

It was embarrassing, but Klavier had nearly forgotten that it would be his duty to prepare the witness. Now he would have to strategize with Kristoph… about accusing him of murder.

It was not a situation Klavier was quite certain he was prepared to handle, particularly since he would have to spend those five minutes entirely alone with Kristoph.

Which was why it was mortifyingly gratifying when Phoenix Wright showed up in the little lobby before Kristoph did.

"Hey, sorry it took me a minute. I wanted to have a word with the attorney."

"I don’t believe I invited you here," Klavier said, though he was certain his relief was showing on his face a little. “In fact, I don’t remember hiring you as my assistant in the first place."

"It just so happens that I’m working pro bono, so you’re in luck," said Phoenix.

Klavier didn’t have much time to argue with him, because Kristoph walked in then.

"I must say," he said, crossing his arms, “I don’t much care for the company you’re keeping these days, Klavier."

"Wow, that’s a change," said Phoenix, while Klavier did his best not to squirm. “You were so eloquent in my defense when you were at my badge hearing."

Kristoph favored him with one of his gentlest smiles. “I’m not the type to kick a starving mongrel, Mr. Wright."

Klavier flinched, but Phoenix’s expression was merely impressed. Perhaps he was used to fielding insults.

"Now, Klavier," said Kristoph, apparently deeming his discussion with Phoenix concluded, “tell me, just what would you like me to say on the stand?"

His tone was still pleasant, but Klavier could feel the stinging venom behind those words. His brother was not pleased with him.

After he had been silent a few moments, Kristoph added, “Would you like me to declare my everlasting guilt? I’d be happy to, but we all saw how well that worked out for Justice. Just as soon as I confessed, you would have to prove me innocent. I’m afraid there is no evidence of me committing a murder I did not actually commit."

"Sure about that?" said Phoenix. Kristoph ignored him, keeping his eyes on Klavier. And Klavier had to admit, as he examined his older brother’s face, that there was not a speck of doubt or guilt there at all. The awful little thought returned to him:

_Perhaps this is all a huge mistake._

"The first thing I would like to do is testify about your motive," Klavier said. His voice was too weak-sounding, but there was little he could do. “Circumstantially, there is enough evidence to suggest that you were capable of committing the crime."

"Based on the testimony of a brother and sister with a vested interest in not seeing themselves behind bars, yes," said Kristoph. “But this court has been such a sham and a mockery of the system so far, why should that matter? I will be happy to testify about my motive- well, I would be, if I could testify about something that did not actually exist."

"Then testify to that end," said Klavier. “That will be fine."

"Will it?" Kristoph moved a little closer to him. “It seems as though you have an argument to counter me with. What do you think my motive for killing the magician was, exactly? Love for our dear Justice?"

"That, you will find out in court," said Klavier, resisting the urge to step back. “You know how this game is played."

"I seem to be the only one left playing by the rules, however."

For some reason, this made Phoenix laugh.

"You’re a real comedian, Kristoph, you know that? Come on, Klavier, we should get back inside."

"In that case, Mr. Wright," said Kristoph, “I hope you don’t mind if I respectfully ask for a moment alone with my brother."

"Ha ha," said Phoenix, and then he looked at Klavier.

"Yes," said Klavier, though his chest seemed to be constricting. “A… minute. I will meet you inside, Herr Wright."

"I get it," said Phoenix, glancing between them. “Guess I’ll wait for you, then." He lingered for another moment. “Don’t forget, Apollo and Trucy are waiting for you too."

"Go on, Mr. Wright. I assure you I will attempt to refrain from murdering my little brother in a courthouse."

"Sure," said Phoenix, “but he won’t always be in a courthouse, will he?"

"Thank you, Herr Wright, for your help," said Klavier, actively annoyed now. “I will see you later."

After he had gone, Kristoph said quietly, “I didn’t expect to be treated this way by my own brother."

Klavier’s throat stuck a little, and all he could manage was, “Neither did I."

"What do you mean?" Kristoph’s voice was soft. “Have I… treated you like a criminal, Klavier? Have I hurt you?"

At once Klavier was bursting to say no, no, you never hurt me, you could never hurt me, it’s my fault-

But that was a conditioned response.

"How you have treated me has nothing to do with this case," he said. “It is only related to your actions regarding the Gramarye family."

Kristoph laughed. “No, it isn’t. This is… this is petty revenge, of some kind, for some imagined slight. I knew you had a volatile personality, Klavier, but this… How persuasive can Justice be, that he convinced you it was right to frame me for murder? Do you think you are doing the right thing, Klavier?"

 _The right thing_. Those words again.

"Yes," he said, but it was a great deal of effort.

"I see," said Kristoph, and for a moment his eyes were shadowed behind his glasses. “Then, perhaps I should confess. Would that make you happy, Klavier? That is, after all, a very vested interest of mine. You may take out all your adolescent furor on me."

Klavier was quiet. He was remembering something else, something in Kristoph’s voice…

_I thought you could do it. I guess I was wrong._

He, Klavier, at age eight, struggling to perform some task that was so arbitrary he could not even remember what it was- but he was sweating and struggling under twenty-five-year-old Kristoph’s cold gaze.

"It’s all right," Kristoph had said, in that gentle way. “I’m sorry for making you try. I should’ve known you couldn’t do it."

"I  _can_  do it!" Klavier had cried, because his big brother was here, his big, successful,  _adult_ brother was paying attention to him, and he couldn’t even…

"Don’t try any more," Klavier had said, “because you’re making me feel a little embarrassed."

Even at eight Klavier had picked up on some of that derision, and had bristled and responded like the schoolchild he was-

"I’m going to tell Mother!"

Kristoph had not reacted like he was supposed to, when he said those words- had not gotten worried or scared or said something like, " _Hey, I’m sorry, Ms. Gavin doesn’t need to know-_ ”

Kristoph had turned and smiled at him and said, “If that makes you feel better, Klavier, then you should."

And then  _Klavier_  was the one apologizing, and starting to cry, though he didn’t know why, and Kristoph had just kept smiling at him as the tears ran down and down his face.

Klavier knew, now, that that was the reaction Kristoph was expecting. In Kristoph’s eyes, he was still that little child, sobbing and begging for big brother’s forgiveness.

He said, “It would be very helpful if you  _would_  confess, mein bruder."

Kristoph’s smile thinned somewhat.

"I’m afraid there are laws against lying in court, Klavier."

"Yes," said Klavier. “Ja. Keep them in mind, today."

"I see." Kristoph gave a soft sigh. “Well, this is what you wanted, is it not? To battle me in court."

"I…" Klavier swallowed.  _Not like this, though_.

"I don’t intend to go easy on you," said Kristoph, and for a moment there was almost something genuine in his smile. “And I expect you to at least put up a decent fight."

"Yes," said Klavier, but he was unable to imitate his brother’s lighthearted tone. His chest was constricting again, and it wasn’t nerves.

"If you win, of course," said Kristoph, smiling as if he knew exactly what Klavier was thinking- but then again, he always did. “If you win, this will be the last game we ever play together."


	19. Chapter 19

"Court is now back in session," said the judge He adjusted his robes, looking somewhat weary. “I would like to briefly summarize where we stand right now. Three people seem to have had the means to commit the murder. These people are, of course, the defendant, Trucy Gramarye, the defense, Apollo Justice, and the defense’s assistant for this trial, Kristoph Gavin." He cleared his throat. “However, only one motive has been sufficiently established: that of Trucy Gramarye."

"Are you all right?" Phoenix murmured in Klavier’s ear, as the judge continued. “You look pale. Are you really going to be able to-"

"Hush, Herr Wright. You are disrupting my beat."

"Well," said Phoenix, looking a little affronted, but he didn’t say anything else, perhaps catching the look on Klavier’s face.

Apollo was watching Klavier too, and he could see all the worry and concern etched on his countenance. Somehow Trucy had gotten permission to stand beside him in place of Kristoph, and her fingers lightly rested on his right wrist.

Kristoph, of course, was on the stand, smiling.

"Ahem." The judge cleared his throat. “The defense and the prosecution have suggested that Mr. Kristoph Gavin is connected to the crime. However, given that the evidence that has been presented is circumstantial, and dependent on testimony-" Kristoph’s smile widened as he coughed again. “The defense must prove that a  _definitive_  link lies between the witness and the crime. If not, and if this becomes a waste of the court’s time, the witness will be permitted to leave." His hoary old face became grim. “And that, I think, will have to be the conclusion of the trial of Trucy Gramarye."

"I understand, Your Honor," said Apollo, sounding quite shaky in spite of his words, and shot Klavier a very meaningful look:  _I hope you have a plan, because I don’t._

Klavier returned his artiest of shrugs, and Apollo’s stiff hair actually drooped.

"Mr. Gavin," said the judge, “now, if you will please testify about your connection to the victim and to the crime."

"Yes, Your Honor," said Kristoph. “I will be happy to clear up your remaining doubts. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes." His smile towards Klavier was almost conspiratorial, as if they were in on something together. 

"Please, proceed," said Klavier, closing his eyes briefly. It was all just a game, a mock trial, like the ones he and Kristoph had practiced together long ago.

"Of course," said his brother. “I hardly knew the victim. I was aware of him by his connection to Zak Gramarye, my former client, of course, but I certainly did not have-"

"Objection!" Apollo shook his head. “Come on now, Mr. Gavin, don’t lie this early in the game. You knew about Valant Gramarye for a lot longer than that."

"And how do you figure that?" asked Klavier.

"Obviously, thorough me," said Apollo. “I met Trucy while I was still an intern at Mr. Gavin’s office two years ago!"

"Ha," said Kristoph. “I suppose I should have been more clear, though you did a remarkable job spotting that inconsistency, Justice."

"I’m not your student anymore, Mr. Gavin, so don’t act like it," Apollo said. Kristoph seemed not to hear him.

"What I meant was that I had never actually  _met_  either Zak or Valant Gramarye until Zak hired me to be his defense. Certainly I was aware of them through Justice and his sister." Kristoph shook his head. “To be honest, that is why I did not want to testify against him yesterday. I was… conflicted, over whether or not I should keep protecting them with my silence."

"Objection!" Apollo’s fists were clenched. “You mean to imply you claim to know something that would implicate me or Trucy?"

"No," said Klavier. “He means to say he is no longer conflicted. Isn’t that right, Kristoph?"

Kristoph smiled.

"I should finish my current testimony, however."

"Certainly," said Klavier, shrugging away Apollo’s frantic look. “Continue."

"Well, there is not much to say, really. As fond as I am of Justice, I know his sister less familiarly. And I am not the kind to perform murder as a favor either way." A small smile graced his lips. “Honestly, I can think of no reason why I would murder Valant Gramarye at all. Can you, Justice?"

"Well, um…"

"But I certainly can explain  _your_  reasoning, Apollo." Kristoph chuckled. “The court thinks that this man is motivated by a desire to protect his sister? Oh, no. He is motivated by pure greed."

"Objection!" Apollo cried, red in the face with fury, but Klavier cut over him.

"Will you explain, witness?"

"Certainly, prosecutor." There was a sort of delicious enjoyment hovering in Kristoph’s tone now. “Trucy Gramarye would be in the position to acquire a great deal of money by inheriting her grandfather’s magic, wouldn’t she? And Justice, as her brother, would reap the benefits of her generosity."

Kristoph paused to adjust his glasses. He had the court transfixed again, even Apollo, who had gone slack-jawed with shock.

"Apollo Justice was there at the court that day, when Zak Gramarye made his dashing exit. And he spoke to his sister, who had explained to him the contents of the letter. It was then that he formulated his plan. He got to Valant before she did, planted the pin, and planted the false evidence  _himself_  to implicate his dear sister." Kristoph’s smile was chilling, and he lifted his face to stare at Klavier. “Does that not explain the inadequacies?"

Apollo shouted something furious, not even an objection, just a wordless bellow of protest. Kristoph merely laughed softly.

"A violent and ill-fostered young man, our Justice. I am terribly sorry I was not able to train it out of him. Lives would have been saved, it seems."

"Interesting theory, Kristoph," said Klavier. “But you do not have any more evidence to present to the court, do you?"

"I’m afraid not," said Kristoph. “It is regrettable. It seems the girl will have to go to prison in her brother’s place. Such a shame, since she is so young and innocent."

No words could describe the fury in Apollo’s eyes now. He looked as if he was ready to leap of the bench and strangle Kristoph. Klavier tried to calm his hammering heart and looked at Apollo, trying to convey the idea that his behavior wasn’t helping the court’s impression of him.

Either Apollo got the message, or he figured it out himself, because after a moment he slowly unclenched his fists. Trucy leaned over to whisper something in his ear.

"Your words do conflict with Herr Justice’s actions earlier today, when he tried to get the blame placed on himself," Klavier pointed out.

"We all experience qualms of conscience from time to time, Klavier," Kristoph said. “I only wish that Justice had experienced his before he chose to kill someone."

"Clearly, mein bruder Kristoph."

"Well, Your Honor?" Kristoph said, looking up at the judge. “I believe I have sufficiently proven that I have no motive- and that Apollo Justice has a very glaring one indeed."

"Yes, that seems-"

"Objection!"

The judge stumbled over his words.

"P-prosecutor Gavin? You’re objecting to something?"

"Ah, excuse me," said Klavier. “That was for the defense’s benefit, ja? He looks like he wants to say something."

"Oh," said the judge. “How courteous of you. Mr. Justice?"

Apollo gave him a very alarmed look. “Uh, yes, that’s right. I do have something to say."

The silence stretched on for a while, and then Klavier said, “I hope you were not thinking of saying something like ‘Mr. Gavin does have a motive,’ because-"

"Objection!" Apollo’s voice might have cracked china. “Mr. Gavin  _does_ have a motive!"

Klavier thought his brother might roll his eyes, if he were the type who’d do such a thing. “Very well. And what is this motive, precisely?"

"Um." Apollo was visibly sweating, but he swallowed and continued. “His motive is… well, his motive is me!"

“ _You_?" spluttered the judge. “What does that mean?!"

"I’m all ears to understand your meaning," said Kristoph. “I said it before: I am not the type to kill as a favor to a friend."

"No," said Apollo. “But it wasn’t a favor to me. To be precise, it was in  _your_  favor. Because it wasn’t just me you were after. You wanted Trucy as well!"

"Order!" cried the judge, as the galley erupted. “Mr. Justice, why on earth would Mr. Gavin want you or your sister?!"

"Because my sister and I possess a very specific power," said Apollo. His eyes were gleaming now- he’d finally caught the scent. “A power that is very useful for an attorney. We can tell when someone is lying."

Kristoph laughed. “The court won’t believe such a preposterous-"

"Objection," said Klavier. “I can confirm that this ability is real."

"So can I," Phoenix chimed in.

"Me, too!" chirped Trucy. Apollo gave her an odd look..

"Hmm," said the judge, closing his eyes.

"Your Honor, you aren’t seriously considering believing this ridiculous lie," said Kristoph.

The judge opened his eyes.

"That remains to be seen, Mr. Gavin. This court has seen peculiar powers before, and since then I have strived to keep an open mind. Mr. Justice."

"Yes, Your Honor!"

The judge stroked his beard. “Explain how the murder of Valant Gramarye would help Kristoph Gavin to acquire this power from you."

"Right," said Apollo. 

"This is a flagrant disregard for the law," Kristoph burst out.

"The witness will refrain from interrupting," the judge said, and Kristoph went quiet. He wasn’t smiling now, Klavier noticed. 

"Um," said Apollo. “Well, I think- at first Mr. Gavin just wanted to use me, as his assistant. When Trucy told me about our, uh, gift, I told him about it. He made me start using it during his cases right away. It helped him win a few."

"Mr. Gavin!" The judge looked stern. “Is this true?"

"If Your Honor believes in fairy tales," said Kristoph.

"I don’t believe there is any law against using Herr Justice’s kind of perception in the courtroom, anyway," Klavier pointed out.

"True," said the judge. “I’m sorry, Mr. Justice. Please continue."

"Uh, right." Apollo nervously straightened his tie. “Well, I think Mr. Gavin thought he could use me. He even tried to adopt me. But I think he noticed that I, uh, would be hard to control. Because I wanted to run my own law office, for example. And other things."

"Oh," said the judge, eyes wide. “Oh, I see. So he turned to your sister."

"Yes." Apollo nodded. “She’s younger, and she doesn’t aspire to be a lawyer. She’d be easier to use than me. So I think when Zak was accused, he set up his plan."

"Explain this plan, Mr. Justice."

"Well, he had to get both Zak and Valant out of his way so he could have access to Trucy," said Apollo. “And I think he saw Zak’s trial as an opportunity. He planned to get Zak off for that charge, but then he’d frame him for the murder of Valant. And then they’d both be put away."

"Objection!" Kristoph put one hand on the witness stand, as if he were still the defense. “Isn’t that needlessly complicated, Justice? Why get the man off of one murder charge and then not do the same for the other?"

"Um," said Apollo. “Uh…"

"Objection!"

Kristoph turned to look at him. Klavier laughed, shoulders shaking.

"Because it’s you, Kristoph. You took that case on, right? You’d never lose _intentionally_. Really, I am sure you even went to the most drastic measures to win. I am willing to bet you were going to give that second murder case to Herr Justice… and have him lose. What better way to dampen his spirits and keep him from breaking away from you?"

"You’d adopt Trucy," Apollo continued. “And you’d keep me under control, too. You’d use us both. You had perfect control over the legal system then, wouldn’t you? A way to tell if and when witnesses were lying, a way to weed the guilty clients from the innocent ones, and…" He glanced over at Klavier.

"Yes," said Klavier. “And a prosecutor you had groomed to worship and obey you, ja? No way to lose, mein bruder."

Shocked, stifled whispers came from the galley. Kristoph’s glare was icy.

"That is quite an accusation."

"I’m sorry, Klavier," said Apollo, looking miserably across the courtroom.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Herr Forehead," said Klavier, shrugging. “I don’t believe you have actually done anything wrong."

"Mr. Gavin." The judge looked more serious than Klavier had ever seen him. “These are grave accusations indeed. Do you have anything to counter them with?"

"Aside from their ludicrous nature?" Kristoph sighed, shook his head. “Well, they do have a certain charm to them, but I am afraid that the defense and the prosecution have yet to provide a shred of actual evidence that I am connected to the crime at all."

"Hm," said the judge. “Unfortunately, you are right." 

"But-" Apollo slammed his fists down. “Your Honor, he clearly has a strong motive!"

"Indeed," said the judge. “And if this were Kristoph Gavin’s trial, that might be enough to put him behind bars. I am afraid, however, that for now he is merely a witness." His eyes in their wrinkles were flinty. “Our current legal system does not permit me to go further- not without evidence."

"Evidence…"

"Mr. Justice, do you have any such evidence to show that Mr. Gavin was involved in this crime?"

Apollo swallowed, and looked down at his handcuffs.

"No, Your Honor."

"And the… prosecution?" The judge peered at Klavier, almost nervously. “Do you have any objections?"

Klavier was quiet. Kristoph chuckled.

"It was an amusing ride. I hope it was enjoyable for everyone. But I am afraid we must get off, and back to reality now."

Klavier felt Apollo’s eyes on him. He had lead them here. He had been the one to put Kristoph on the stand- and Apollo had trusted him. He had trusted in Klavier’s ability enough to risk losing his only shot at saving Trucy.

Klavier did not meet his eyes. 

"The prosecution rests, Your Honor."

Apollo made a sound, low, like a half-swallowed word. Trucy reached over and gripped his hand, their fingers interlacing tightly. 

"I see," said the judge, stroking his beard. “I will admit it- I was very intrigued by this tangent. But I am afraid that without any concrete evidence, it is just that: a tangent. There is no point in making Mr. Gavin stay on the stand any longer. Therefore, I will hereby-"

"Objection!"

The cry echoed, it seemed, through the courtroom. Familiar and powerful.

Phoenix Wright said, “Sorry. Excuse me."

"Mr. Wright." The judge looked a tad annoyed. “Is there a reason you are interrupting me?"

"Well, no. I mean yes, actually." Phoenix fished something out of his pocket. “Sorry, I don’t have access to the evidence display. But Prosecutor Gavin will put it up for me, right?"

“ _Was_?" Klavier accepted the small paper item from him, bemused. “Well, why not?" He pressed it down onto the little scanner.

"There, good. It’s in focus." Phoenix squinted up at the display. “Can everybody read that? Can you see what it says, Apollo?"

"Um, yes?" Apollo was squinting, bewildered. “It seems to be… a tag?"

"Yeah," said Phoenix. “A price tag. For a set of mugs. Guess where I found it?"

"Where, ex-attorney Wright? Please tell us." Kristoph seemed thoroughly amused. “As long as the judge doesn’t mind holding up the court for a little longer. I’m sure these good people have nowhere better to be today."

"Yeah, they probably don’t," said Phoenix. “Anyway, you should pay close attention, Gavin. Because I found it in your garbage. Along with three other mugs. Hey, here’s a picture of one." He slipped Klavier a photograph. “Wow, doesn’t that look familiar?"

"Mr. Wright," said Kristoph, “since it amuses you to hijack this trial so nonchalantly, I will play along: you are saying that this is proof that I bought the mug and planted it at the scene, correct? But if these items were in the office trash- which, I may remind you, is strictly off-limits to ragamuffin persons such as yourself- is it not entirely possible that someone  _else_ who worked there could have discarded them?"

"You mean Apollo, right?" Phoenix shook his head. “Nah, I doubt it. Because I never said I found these at the office. They were in your _personal_  trash, Gavin."

Kristoph’s smile dimmed. “Then I assure you, they were planted."

"Of course they were," said Klavier. Kristoph’s eyes flashed warningly at him.

"It is a  _fact_  that these items were never in my personal trash. Perhaps you should be more careful of who you accept evidence from, Klavier. Or have you forgotten your last trial?"

"Oh, nein," said Klavier. “I have not."

"Regardless," said Kristoph, “of how obviously desperate this fabrication is: there is still  no way to prove Mr. Wright’s claims of where these items were found."

"That is correct."

Apollo was watching him, still showing the last vestiges of the despair that had threatened to overtake him just a few minutes ago. Klavier still did not meet his eyes.

"Okay," said Phoenix. “Fair enough. Here, take this." He passed a piece of paper to Klavier. “Read this. It’s from the forensics department."

"Very well," said Klavier.

"Klavier." Kristoph was nearly frowning now. “What do you think you are doing?"

"Indulging an ex-attorney," said Klavier, shrugging. “Here, let me read what this says: oh."

"It says, ‘Oh,’ Prosecutor Gavin?"

"I apologize," said Klavier. “I was a little startled. Let me try that again. This says,  _K. Gavin’s fingerprints were found on the letter to Valant Gramarye_. Signed, Detective Gumshoe." Klavier looked up, as the galley went alive with murmurs. “I have never heard of this man."

Kristoph’s knuckles had gone white where he was gripping the edge of the bench.

"I never," he said, slowly, “touched that letter."

"You must have a fingerprint twin, mein bruder," said Klavier.

"Mr. Gavin." Apollo fists were clenched so tight it looked painful. “That’s why the letter was different. That’s why the stamp disappeared. That’s why-" He banged the bench, chain rattling. “That’s why Magnifi Gramarye’s true will has disappeared! You altered it, Gavin! You altered it because you didn’t want Trucy to inherit those rights!"

Kristoph had gone rigid, his mouth twisting downwards.

"I never… touched…  _that letter_."

"Really," said Klavier. “Don’t you have a better line than that? Don’t you have a story to-"

“ _I said I never touched it_!" 

Kristoph’s hand came down on the stand with a  _bang._ A few sweaty strands of hair slid loose across his forehead, and he readjusted them.

"That evidence is fabricated."

"Doubting the police department now, Gavin?"

Klavier looked at Phoenix, his mouth twisting  _up_ , and spat, “Oh, yes, that police department. I recognize that name. You had them all in your pocket, didn’t you, Wright? Those last minute turnarounds, that miracle evidence- you call me a criminal?  _Me_?" He was snarling, face contorted. “You were nothing but a law-school dropout with no talent! You expect anyone to believe that your stupid bluffing ever would’ve amounted to anything? No!" His fingers were claws, digging in to the polished wood.  “It was only a matter of time before you got caught, _Wright_."

The courtroom seemed breathless for a moment. Phoenix frowned.

"I never dropped out of law school!"

"Kristoph," said Klavier, and, realizing how shaky his voice sounded, straightened up and stopped gripping the bench for support. “Kristoph. Pull yourself together, please. Do not act so disgraceful."

Kristoph looked at him, tucked away his bangs, and smiled. But it was not quite the gentle smile anymore: it twitched and crumbled at the corners.

"I will tell you what a disgrace is, Klavier. You can barely even call yourself a prosecutor. You could barely even play your part in the  _last_  trial. A rock star, and a prosecutor? Are you deluding yourself, little brother? _You are a laughingstock_!"

Klavier said, “I am what I am. Ja, I will laugh with them."

"Yes," said Kristoph. “Yes, of course.  _I should have known you couldn’t do it_. How weak you are."

"Objection!"

Klavier’s voice rang true, his arm swinging out to point.

"Nein, Kristoph, nein! Isn’t it you who is weak? Why is it that you must always rely on these methods to get your way? Have you ever once considered-" His voice cracked, his fist hit the wall. “Have you ever once considered that I would come to help you of my own free will?"

Kristoph looked at him for a moment, a long moment, then suddenly passed a hand over his face, and laughed.

"This court is a farce! What other melodrama do you have in store in your little revenge fantasy, Phoenix Wright? Or are you quite done trying to manipulate me?"

"Ironic choice of words," said Phoenix. “And I’m sure the court would be very interested to hear why exactly you think I would want  _revenge_  on you."

Kristoph slid his hand down his face a little, so that only his eyes showed, and they were icy.

"Here’s my idea," continued Phoenix. “Testify about this so-called false evidence. Let’s hear exactly why your fingerprints couldn’t be on that letter."

"Very well," said Kristoph, almost agreeably, and then a sharp, startling laugh came from him. " _Ha_! As if I would agree to such a thing. No, I have grasped your game, Wright. How deceitful of you to use my brother so." He chuckled. “But then, none of this evidence has officially entered the court record, has it?"

"Eh," said Phoenix.

"A flagrant abuse of privilege," said Kristoph. “And I notice that the judge himself has not spoken for some time. No doubt influenced yet again by the contents of your pocket, hmm? What an awful shame for Phoenix Wright, hero to the common criminal."

"Objection!" Klavier burst out. “You deny this evidence?"

"Certainly," said Kristoph. “You can stop playacting. Your little game is over. You have, as I have stated many times, absolutely nothing. Without these two  _lies_ , what do you have? A hat, a mug, a letter with a drop of blood? Go on, look through your court record. I’ll be waiting."

The courtroom was quiet. The judge coughed. The galley seemed entirely drained of energy. Phoenix looked at Klavier.

"I am sorry," said Klavier, before he could say anything. “You risked everything… I thought I might be able to break him. I’m truly sorry."

Phoenix thumbed his chin. “Hm."

"Your Honor," said Kristoph. His hair he had put back in place, his glasses he had straightened, and that calm signature smile had returned. “I think it would be best if you spared us all any more of this torment and simply passed down a verdict."

The judge coughed again.

"This court has seen many strange trials, but this one-"

“ _Objection_!"

"Oh, good, I was waiting for that," said the judge, peevishly.

"Sorry, Your Honor." Apollo’s arms were crossed, and he was grinning, looking about as un-sorry as anyone could possibly be. “But I think you’ll want to hear what I’m about to say. It concerns one of Mr. Gavin’s last statements."

"Oh, come now-" Kristoph bust out, but the judge idly waved his gavel.

"Proceed, Mr. Justice."

"Let me repeat the statement in question back to the court," said Apollo, scrolling through the transcription. “He said, ‘What evidence do you have? A hat, a mug, a letter with a drop of blood?’"

"Yes, is there a problem with that?"

"Oh yeah, there’s a problem. A big one. Did we ever mention that there was blood on the letter in court? Oh, and by the way, there is." He flicked an image of the page in question onto the screen. “We just never looked at this page before."

"Witness," said Klavier. “How could you know about this blood? Did Herr Justice discuss it with you?"

"As a matter of fact, I didn’t," said Apollo. For a moment he looked sheepish. “Actually… I had completely forgotten about it until just now."

"Interesting," said Klavier. “Especially since that means that not only have you seen the letter, you have seen it after Herr Gramarye pricked his finger yet  _before_  the police arrived to secure the scene. Tell me, mein bruder, what were you doing there?"

Kristoph had gone cold again. 

"The answer is stupidly simple. Justice told me about the letter. He is ly-"

"Objection! Objection, Mr. Gavin! Were you about to say that I was lying?" Apollo’s fingers were clamped around his bracelet, his stare piercing. Klavier saw Kristoph actually flinch.

"I saw it," said Apollo. “I saw your hand tense, Mr. Gavin. You’re the one who’s lying. You’ve been lying since the moment you started speaking to this court! You were there, at the crime scene!  _You were there_! And when Trucy climbed down the rope and dropped her hat, you were there to climb down after her, plant the hat, and get your photo taken!  _Weren’t you_!"

"No," Kristoph started, the anger starting to seethe back into his face, but Apollo had swung around to the judge.

"Your Honor! Kristoph Gavin has admitted to knowing something that he can not possibly know! He must have been at the crime scene at the time of the murder. The defense requests that we have a day for additional investi-"

"Objection!" Kristoph’s fist hit the bench. “There will be no third day."

"Kristoph, you cannot run anymore!" cried Klavier, but his brother shook his head. 

"I am not running. I have decided to confess. Here and now, I, Kristoph Gavin, confess to murdering Valant Gramarye." He tilted his head, smiling. “Please, lock me up."

"M-Mr. Gavin!" The judge was blinking with machine-gun rapidity. “Are you sure about this?"

"Certainly," said Kristoph. “I believe that this court has seen enough foolishness for one day. I’m ready to atone for my crime."

"Kristoph," said Klavier, and Kristoph looked at him, still smiling.

"Don’t pretend to feel remorse, Klavier. I am exactly where you wanted me."

Whatever joy Klavier might have derived from his victory seemed to crumble up into ash at that moment, and all he could do was stare at him. Across the courtroom, Apollo was trying to catch his eye, and he could see the frown on the attorney’s face.  _Too easy. He’s making it too easy._

The judge paused for a long moment, closing his eyes. Finally, he said, “I have made my decision. Normally, given the circumstances, I would not be satisfied merely with the points that the defense has made concerning the defendant’s innocence. However, the doubt that has been cast on Mr. Kristoph Gavin, coupled with his own confession, lead me to make this decision. I do not make it lightly." 

He cleared his throat, and looked around, perhaps expecting yet another last-minute objection. Klavier felt one wanting to burst out of his throat as he stared at Kristoph. It couldn’t really end this way, could it? His brother going to prison for a crime they didn’t have any  _real_  evidence he had committed?

Kristoph’s eyes were not quite meeting his, though there was something steely in his gaze. Klavier wondered- was Kristoph expecting him to object? To plead for one last chance, to beg for forgiveness? Something was strange. Kristoph was unsettled.

And Klavier realized, thinking of that wine bottle coming down, that that was it, that was it all along. Klavier hadn’t moved the way Kristoph had wanted him to. Klavier had broken the rules. Klavier had started to suspect big brother of wrongdoing.

And the moment that had happened had left Kristoph  _so panicked_  that he had tried to end the problem in the simplest and fastest of ways.

Was it self-serving of him to imagine that Kristoph’s panic had stemmed from something more than just an out-of-control pawn?

He would never know. And now he  _was_  certain: Kristoph expected him to interject. He could see it in his eyes, as they tightened imperceptibly above that calm smile. He was waiting for Klavier to lose his nerve.

"Very well," said the judge, as the silence stretched on. “Then this court finds the defendant, Trucy Gramarye… Not Guilty."

Everything happened very quickly after that. The courtroom erupted into cheers. Apollo and turned to Trucy and gripped her in a tight embrace, and Trucy was laughing as if she was embarrassed and trying not to cry. Phoenix was shouting something irresponsibly lame, possibly “Yeah, kid!" or “No objections here!"

Confetti was falling like rain. Some of it was landing on Kristoph’s shoulders, and he flicked it off. The guard came up behind him, and he turned and held out his hands.

Klavier watched his back as he was ushered out of the courtroom, so quietly and calmly, despite the hubbub of joyful noise all around them. He looked back once, over his shoulder, and smiled at Klavier.

The courtroom doors had shut. Phoenix was shaking his shoulder.

"Hey, snap out of it. We should go congratulate the defense. They did a great job."

"Ah, right," said Klavier. “Let me gather my things. You go ahead for me."

"Klavier." Phoenix frowned. “You did good too. I think you were-"

"Thank you, Herr Wright." Klavier, leaning to pick up his case of papers, smiled. “But remember, the defense’s win is also my loss."

"Right," Phoenix said, eyeing him. “Okay. Take a moment, then."

Klavier waved him idly on, and leaned down again, counting the three seconds until he was gone, and then edged around the bench and slipped out past the happy crowd and out the doors.

 

* * *

 

Kristoph was not in the empty lobby. He must have already been in the van that would drive him to the detention center. Klavier thrust his hands in his pockets and tried to assess his own feelings on the matter. He was not a shaking wreck. But neither was he very happy. He felt… unsatisfied. There were too many questions left unanswered, too many things that didn’t make sense.

Unsatisfied. Hollow.

 _Who will take care of Vongole,_  he suddenly wondered, and that was the first strike of real panic. The dog. The empty house. The law office. It would have to close. Who would manage it without Kristoph? His brother’s associates, his connections. Klavier’s own image.

 _That’s two losses_.

Two losses, humiliations on the bench, his brother openly mocking him, his brother lead away in handcuffs at his behest. He was supposed to protect Kristoph. From himself. He had known what his brother  _might_  be capable of for a long time.

He had ignored it, refused to acknowledge it. And now…

Maybe that was why Kristoph had laughed when Klavier had claimed to want to help him. Because he had never helped him.

His only brother, wearing the chains that Klavier had put on him. He felt sick.

_And who will take care of Vongole? Who will-_

"Prosecutor Gavin!"

Trucy was running towards him across the lobby, her face lit up with a grin, and grabbed his hand.

"We did it!" she squealed, and then she went on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

“ _Fräulein_ ," he muttered, embarrassed, especially when she whispered in his ear:

"You saved me and Polly. Thank you."

"Ach," said Klavier, entirely at a loss now, and she clasped his hand tighter and then threw her arms around him.

"Trucy!"

That was Apollo’s Big Brother voice, and it was rapidly approaching. Trucy hastily detangled herself from Klavier.

"I found him, Polly!"

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I see that." He stepped forward, frowning, and did something odd: he put both hands on either side of Klavier’s face.

"Uh," said Klavier, suddenly in very close proximity to Apollo’s face. Apollo ignored him, his hands warm on Klavier’s cheeks. His eyes had that penetrating quality to them again.

"Are you all right?"

"Eh," said Klavier, feeling his heart hammering away by this point, knowing he could hardly lie. “I will be."

Apollo’s eyes searched his own for a moment longer, and then he slid his hands away. Klavier’s face felt cold.

"So." Apollo looked awkward for a moment. “Well, we made it."

"Ja," said Klavier, and he smiled, and suddenly Apollo was flinging his arms around him, Trucy giggling madly in the background as Klavier got the breath knocked out of him.

"You said I shouldn’t do that," Klavier wheezed.

"Huh?" said Apollo, into his neck, dammit, and he had to try so hard not to shudder.

"You said I should ask before hugging!"

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry," Apollo said, and hastily put himself at arm’s length. “You’re right."

 _Why did I even say that_ , Klavier wondered. His hands were  _still_  in his pockets.

"Prosecutor Gavin!" said Trucy. “Do you want to go out to dinner with us? To celebrate?"

"Trucy, you can just call him Klavier at this point," Apollo interjected.

"Oh, no I couldn’t!" Trucy was giggling behind her hands, a faint blush coloring her cheekbones. Apollo looked a tad annoyed.

"Sorry, Fräulein," said Klavier. “It pains me to decline, but I have a little cleaning up of my own to do tonight."

"Come on, Klavier," said Apollo. “You’re not getting away that easily. We’re not going to leave you alone so you can mope around. You need to be with people tonight."

"Perhaps," said Klavier. “But perhaps not the-" He stopped himself. Apollo’s tone had irritated him, and he had been about to say,  _the people who helped put my brother in jail_. By the look on Apollo’s face it didn’t matter, he’d already worked it out himself.

"Hey, kids."

The greeting was familiar enough by this point that Klavier did not need to turn around. “Herr Wright."

"Mr. Wright!" Apollo stepped back from Klavier and more or less sprang to Phoenix’s side. “That was incredible, what you did earlier! I can’t believe- I can’t believe you pulled it off!"

"Well," said Phoenix, modestly scratching the back of his head. “It was mostly Klavier’s idea. I just helped."

"I can’t believe how much you were risking," said Apollo, fervently. “You could lose your chance to ever get your badge back!"

"Yeah, it was close," said Phoenix, smiling, and glanced at Klavier. Klavier looked away.

Before the trial, he and Phoenix had made a deal with the judge. Phoenix had ten minutes to talk uninterrupted. He’d present unofficial evidence from the prosecutor’s bench. Klavier would receive a penalty. Phoenix was the one who took the heavier blow.

Klavier hadn’t tried to stop him.

"How long ahead of time were you planning this?" Apollo was saying now. “I know you said you’d try to help us, Mr. Wright, but I didn’t hear anything about this. And Klavier!" He spun around, face creasing with sudden anger. “You didn’t even  _talk_ to me when I was in the detention center. I was afraid you actually thought I was guilty!"

“ _Was_?" spluttered Klavier. “Were you hit on the head? You were the one who said you wanted no visitors!"

"No, I didn’t say that! Who the heck told you that?!"

Phoenix cleared his throat.

"Mr. Wright-?!"

"Sorry," said Phoenix. “But I thought it would be better if you didn’t try to convince him that this was the only way to do things, Apollo. He needed to make his own decisions."

"What!" cried Klavier, but Apollo beat him to the punch, so to speak, for his arm shot out and nailed Phoenix directly on the jaw.

"Do you have any idea what I went through because of that!" he snapped. “I thought-!" He cut himself off, and turned away from them all.

"Ow," said Phoenix, rotating his jaw. “Nice arm."

Klavier realized he was inadvertently imitating the Ema Skye mouth-open-hand-on-cheek pose and hastily put his hand down.

"Mr. Wright!" Trucy had her hands on her hips. “You really caused Apollo a lot of anguish! You should apologize!"

"Right, sorry," said Phoenix breezily. “Listen, I’ll make it up to you guys. I’ll take you all out to dinner. Oh, and get Ema on the phone, she should come too. Klavier, you should call her."

"Oh, ja," said Klavier, tiredly, before he remembered that he was trying not to go to dinner. “Actually…"

"Klavier." Apollo whirled back around, and Klavier nearly jumped, both at the sudden movement and the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure that Apollo hadn’t been crying a little bit. “You’re coming with us. You should stay at my apartment with us tonight, too."

Phoenix raised his eyebrows, and Klavier said, “Ah, no, really, my roommate-"

"Your roommate will survive," Apollo said, and Trucy said, “Please, Prosecutor Gavin, I mean Klavier, please come eat with us at least! It’ll be fun, and Mr. Wright is treating! My daddy says you can never refuse free food!"

"Come  _on_ , Klavier," said Apollo, and Klavier finally quailed, because now both siblings were using their  _eyes_  on him.

"All right! I will have dinner. But then I am going back to my apartment, because I have many errands to take care of tonight."

Apollo and Trucy shared a co-conspiratorial glance, and Trucy said. “Hooray! Let’s go, Mr. Wright! I’m hungry!"

"Right," said Phoenix. “Also, I should’ve mentioned this earlier, but I actually don’t have a job right now."

"Ja, Herr Wright, I will help with the bill," said Klavier. 

"Then we should all split it," Apollo said at once, looking determined.

"Oh come on," complained Phoenix. “As soon as Klavier jumps in…?"

"I was going to offer anyway," Apollo said stoutly. Klavier laughed.

Trucy took his hand. “Come on, Mr. Prosecutor," she said, eyes sparkling. “I promise I’ll make all your bad feelings disappear, just for tonight."

"Fräulein, I would caution you against using those words with other men," said Klavier, though he was rather amused. “It might give them the wrong idea."

Trucy tweaked his nose. “Or the right idea! And anyway, who would I say that to besides Polly and you, Klavier! You’re like my newest little brother."

"Oh," said Klavier. “Ah…"

And then both of them were tugging at his hands, pulling him out of the lobby, and Phoenix’s hand was on his back, and they all walked out together in the cool evening air.


	20. Chapter 20

Klavier was having a dream in which a scantily-clad Apollo Justice was shaking him awake in a hotel room.

He was certain that it  _was_  a dream, despite the lack of evidence and the increasing annoyance on Apollo’s face, because a situation like this one could only, legally, come after a night of victorious passionate lovemaking, and he had no recollection of that ever happening.

"Seriously," Apollo was complaining, “it’s eleven o’clock. Wake up, already!"

He was getting a bit rough with Klavier’s shoulder, his fingers digging unkindly into the fabric of his borrowed t-shirt as he shook him. Klavier squinted at him and with a great effort rolled over onto his side.

"It’s only eleven?"

Apollo rolled his eyes. He was half-crouching on Klavier’s bed, wearing a shabby old steel samurai t-shirt and shorts, presumably his sleeping clothes. Klavier thought he looked utterly charming, especially as his hair was mussed and not slicked back to its usual war-helm style. 

The sunlight that was streaming through the blinds he had opened was considerably less charming, however, especially as it was lancing Klavier in the eyeballs. He wrinkled his face and pulled his blanket up higher. Apollo tugged it back down.

"We need to check out of the room by twelve, or they’ll charge us for another night. Come on, Klavier, get up!"

"Mm… so let them charge us. I can pay. Come nap with me."

This combination of statements made an interesting sort of struggle appear on Apollo’s face, like murder mixed with chagrin. 

"No, we’re going to check out today. And I’m going to pay for half of it after my next case. We agreed on that last night, remember?"

Klavier did remember, actually, though he could also remember what he had thought to himself afterwards: Apollo wouldn’t have to pay him back for a long time. Or at all.

It was an unpleasant truth, now that the trial was over. Kristoph being gone notwithstanding, Phoenix was right about the impression Apollo’s antics in court would have made on any potential clients.

Klavier had to admit that he had entertained the notion- or fantasy- of supporting Apollo himself. But that was stupid, Apollo would rather starve than depend on anybody, and besides that would mean he’d have to support Trucy too. He wasn’t sure if he was  _that_  rich.

And he didn’t know what help he could even give Apollo besides money.

Apollo must have noticed the change in Klavier’s expression, because there was a forced quality to his voice when he next spoke. “Come on. Get dressed. I don’t understand how you can be this lazy and still arrive in time for court."

"Has anyone ever told you how pleasant you are to be around in the morning, Herr Forehead?" said Klavier, and rolled onto his other side. 

"Klavier!"

"Leave me alone. I’ll get up in five minutes."

"Yeah, right, like I’ve never heard that one before." The bed dimpled slightly behind Klavier- Apollo was crawling on. “Trucy left  _hours_ ago. I can’t believe you’re complaining more than she did."

"Where does the Fräulein have to go, that early in the morning?" Apollo was definitely sitting directly behind him, from the way the bed was sinking. Klavier felt a little lightheaded and was glad he was facing the wall.

"It’s a little place called ‘school.’ You may have heard of it."

Klavier rolled back over and sat up. “You made her go to  _school_? Today?"

"It wasn’t my idea," Apollo said. “She wanted to go. She said she wanted to see her friends again."

"You think that’s all right, though? Letting her go right after the trial? Would it not be better to…"

"Wait until the fuss dies down?" Apollo grimaced, and pulled a leg in to sit cross-legged on the bedspread, gripping his ankles. “I thought about it, but honestly, I think it’s better for her to just go back. She’s not the type who lets people’s opinions affect her very much. And besides, it’d be even harder for her if she was too behind in her schoolwork."

"Hmm," said Klavier, who had gotten distracted from the issue of Trucy as soon he had noticed Apollo’s shorts again and how his bare legs were  _right there_.

"Hmm," he added, when he recalled that with Trucy gone, he and Apollo were alone in a hotel room with at least an hour before Apollo would force them to check out. Maybe more, if he could play his cards right. 

Not that he normally would have imagined being able to budge the stubborn attorney on anything- but he’d had quite a victory convincing him to check out a hotel room for the three of them. Mostly it had hinged with Apollo’s desire not to let Klavier go ‘home alone,’ as he called it, despite Klavier’s frequent reminders that he did actually have _a roommate_. Klavier had pointed out that Apollo’s apartment really was not a suitable place for both Trucy and Klavier to sleep at on short notice, unless Apollo wanted Klavier to climb into bed with him…?

"A  _cheap_  room," Apollo had emphasized, at that point.

Klavier was still a bit disappointed that, when they had checked into the two-bedroom suite (Klavier’s definition of cheap, not Apollo’s), Apollo had opted to sleep in Trucy’s room anyway. 

Didn’t that defeat the whole point?

"Seriously, you need to get up," Apollo said. Klavier let out a pained sigh and strategically slumped against Apollo’s side.

"You’ll have to  _carry_ me, Herr Forehead. I am so tired."

"Honestly!" exclaimed Apollo, who was sagging a little against Klavier’s unexpected weight. “If that’s the way you want it to be, then fine!"

Klavier hadn’t been anticipating that answer, and yelped when Apollo suddenly dug his fingers in under his armpits. “Wait- wait-" Apollo had already forcibly dragged him halfway off the bed before he obtained enough breath to shout, “Ach, that _hurts_! Let me go! I give!"

Apollo laughed rudely, but had the grace not to drop him the rest of the way onto the floor, instead guiding him down into an uncomfortable slump. Klavier did his best to untangle his legs from his blanket, uttering guttural, unfriendly things in German. Apollo laughed again.

"I should have known you were a briefs guy."

Klavier flushed, yanked down his borrowed t-shirt, and made a beeline for the bathroom in as dignified a manner he could muster. 

He was glad to shut the door behind himself, too, because he was feeling more than a little dizzy and breathless now. Embarrassed, too. Apollo was treating him like a brat, and he had acted the part.

He almost hated to look in the mirror, so he busied himself with other things in the little bathroom, trying to avoid eye contact with himself. His hair was very tousled, though at least he had the sort of haircut where it could never look too bad in the mornings. His eyes were red-rimmed and tired. He wondered why he was getting so bothered over his appearance anyway; it wasn’t like it  _mattered_ , not with Apollo still acting the part of the Big Brother, teasing and all. None of his stupid fantasies or daydreams amounted to anything, nor did it help getting nervous and flustered with proximity… He caught his own eye and swallowed. 

What had Apollo said, back when they had had that hurried discussion in the court restroom? 

_You can’t fall for the first guy who treats you better than your brother does._

That wasn’t strictly true, considering the awful aching crush he’d once harbored for Daryan, but there was still an unpleasant ring of truth to it all the same. Klavier sat down heavily on the edge of the tub, dragging his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t been lying to Apollo when he had said he was tired.

Being awake meant that he had to remember everything that had happened the day before.

He had hoped that when he did cry it would be because he had lost his brother, effectively, that his brother would in all likelihoods have to spend the rest of his life in prison, but when he muffled the first sob behind his hand it was because over and over in his mind he could not stop replaying the moment when Kristoph had called him  _weak_.

Because it was true. What else would you call a man who sat shivering and sobbing in a hotel bathroom, unable to stand up to his brother’s words, unable to even control himself against a stupid schoolboy crush that would never pan out?

Over and over again, Kristoph being led out of the courtroom, flicking away that bright confetti that so clashed with his suit, leaning back to offer that smile: that smile of disgust, disappointment, and utter disdain. That smile that said,  _This is it, Klavier. You have ruined everything now._

And Kristoph was  _gone_.

"Klavier?"

Apollo was knocking lightly on the door now. Klavier bit down on his hand in self-loathing. He’d probably heard Klavier crying. He found himself torn between wishing Apollo would hurry up and find him, comfort him, and hating himself for it. He did not  _want_ his desire for Apollo to be because of that reason- because he wanted someone there to comfort him. He should not  _need_ that. Kristoph had been right, Kristoph was right, he was weak, and stupid, and he had put Kristoph in jail, and now there was nothing left, nothing, nobody-

He barely even noticed when Apollo came into the bathroom, and he jumped when his arms came around him and pulled him down onto the floor with him, so that they kneeled on the little rug together.

Apollo wasn’t saying anything, and Klavier couldn’t stand to look at his face- and he couldn’t stand to crumple into him, so he sort of just crouched there stiffly, clinging to the front of his shirt because he couldn’t find the strength to break away completely. Apollo was stiff too, his back rigid and his arms on Klavier’s shoulders heavy and limp like dead things. It made Klavier sob a little harder and push his head against Apollo’s chest because he didn’t even know what it  _meant_.

"See-" Apollo began to say, then had to stop and swallow, his voice a little throatier than Klavier last remembered- “see, this is why we didn’t want you to be alone last night."

The statement made Klavier a little irrationally angry, because it was everything he’d  _just_ been fighting against, and Apollo’s tone was so stupidly overbearing and meddlesome, and he lifted his head up and grabbed Apollo’s chin and crushed their lips together.

If Apollo had been stiff before, now he was  _rigid_ , stock-still, and Klavier was aware of what a spectacle he was making of himself as he continued to sob and messily try to part Apollo’s lips against his own. Mostly he was just getting Apollo’s face wet, and Apollo was still just sitting there like some kind of stiff mannequin, and all of Klavier’s previous sadness was turning into a sort of glorious self-righteous anger and he bit down on Apollo’s lower lip.

 _Then_  Apollo gave a muffled little gasp and surged up against him, and for a moment something hot seemed to swoop down into Klavier’s lower belly because Apollo’s hand was on his chin now and his lips were moving against Klavier’s and the taste of his warm blood was in Klavier’s mouth.

It was all so short-lived, though, because Apollo was using his grip on Klavier’s chin to push him away and lean back against the column supporting the sink, the red blood bright against his pale lips.

When he opened his mouth a beat later Klavier flung himself back against the tub and said, “I don’t care!"

Apollo closed his mouth and frowned at him.

"I do not care what you are about to lecture me about," Klavier modified, for clarity’s sake, and clung to the freezing porcelain and pressed his other hand against his forehead.

"What, about kissing someone without their consent?" Apollo snapped, and he sounded really angry, and now Klavier did feel bad, because he was right, and Apollo was  _bleeding_ because of him.

"I’m sorry." The words were small and miserable. So much for the only kiss he’d ever get with Apollo; it was evil and tainted.

"You’re not  _sorry_ , you’re just sorry for yourself," Apollo bit out, and then took a slow breath. “It’s okay. This time. Don’t do it again."

Klavier just hung onto the bathtub like it was a stupid bathtub-shaped lifeline.

"Look," said Apollo, taking on that familiar tone that Klavier was growing to hate, “I know this isn’t a good time to talk about this, but  _you_  just brought it up. I can’t- I don’t know how to put this in a nice way, but-"

"Then say it," Klavier more or less spat, since he’d given up on composure at the point when he was tearstained and curled up on a bathroom floor. “And if it is true, then get out and leave. I don’t want you here anymore."

"Klavier, stop it! I cannot date you. It’s  _illegal_ , for starters, not to mention our professions-"

"Oh, please,  _illegal_. I turn eighteen in less than one month!"

"No you do not, your birthday’s in September!"

"That is not- wait, wait a moment, how do you know that?"

"That’s not important," said Apollo, but he was rapidly growing red. “Trucy had one of your fan magazines, and I  _happened_  to glance at it, okay?"

Klavier laughed in a raw way. “Tell me again why we should not be dating, Herr Forehead?"

"The reasons I just gave you are really good!!"

"Yes, but you," Klavier was starting to feel a little breathless again, “you  _do_  like me, don’t you? You find me… what did you say, once…  _cute_?"

Apollo was  _really_ red now, up to the tips of his ears. “I never said that."

"You were about to!"

"Well, even if I was about to, which I wasn’t, because I wouldn’t- it doesn’t matter! It’s still illegal!"

"Ja, so that is the only thing stopping you- because you like me."

"Don’t  _smirk_  like that," Apollo said. “Even if I find you attractive- oh shut up, you know you are- it doesn’t mean I want to go out with you. I don’t go out with every attractive man I meet, for god’s sake, and especially not teenagers!"

Klavier pressed his cheek against the cool porcelain while he processed this.

"You do not have to go out with me. Just kiss me, and sleep with m-"

"Illegal! Illegal, Klavier!" Apollo was actually jabbing his finger at him, courtroom style, though the flush across his cheeks was an addition. “How many times do I have to say it? We’re lawyers, you know!"

"Mein gott." Klavier shook his head, and dragged his fingers through his bangs. “You lied in court all day yesterday, and you are complaining about something as insignificant as this?"

Apollo pressed his lips together and frowned; it seemed Klavier had crossed a line there. Klavier decided to press on rather than actually feel guilty.

"You keep shouting illegal over and over again, but that is an arbitrary notion,  _ja_? And I do not think you would press that point so if you were not interested. You yourself just said that you find me attractive, and you obviously enjoy spending time with me- then what- am I too much of a ‘teenager’ for you?" Klavier dropped his hand from his forehead to let it rest on his bare thigh. “That is funny; you have said several times that I do not act like one at all."

He thought Apollo was actually thinking about all this, about how much sense it all made, but when he next opened his mouth all he said was, “Klavier, I am not going to go out with you. I’m sorry."

Klavier went all tense against the bathtub, and then turned his head away, and said, “Then leave. Do not act the part of my friend or my brother. I do not want that from you."

"Come on, Klavier, I-"

Klavier aimed a half-hearted kick at him. “What do you hope to accomplish, by being so kind to me, like this? Do you want to get my hopes up? Is that your ‘game,’ as it is said?"

"Of course not! I just-"

"Or-" A nasty new thought occurred to him. “Or do you just want to do what my brother was trying to do, and use me in court, so I will always let you have your victory? Is that it, Herr Justice?"

Now Apollo’s face went white, and he shouted, “Stop it! How could you think that?!"

"I do not know! All I know is that you have such an interest in me, and you say you are worried, but you say you do not like me, and I do not know why you-" He felt like crying again, but he couldn’t, not when Apollo had already made such a big stink about his age. “I do not know why you pretend to care!"

Apollo’s anger seemed to dissipate, and his fists slowly unclenched.

"I’m not pretending. I- I do care. Maybe, you know, you’re not used to believing that, but…"

"Oh, shut up, Herr Forehead." He turned miserably away again, putting his elbows over the side of the bathtub. “Leave him out of this."

"I can’t," Apollo said. “Not after what he’s done to you. I can’t leave you alone."

Klavier was starting to shiver. “Don’t say that. You- you’re hurting me."

He was still facing the back wall when warmth began to creep up along his side and suddenly Apollo was pressing against him and taking his cheek so he could turn Klavier’s head back to face him.

Apollo was quiet, but he was looking at him-  _looking_  at him, to be precise, and it made Klavier shake more, because he couldn’t break that gaze. Apollo’s lips moved slightly, but the words were curiously muffled, like he was underwater, and he could only stare back, and incline his head a little, and then-

Apollo leaned forward and kissed him, and at first Klavier was  _so mad_ , because  _what a hypocrite_ , even as his arms slipped off the tub and he moved to throw them around Apollo’s shoulders and drag him closer against himself. Apollo made a low sound and his warm breath skated across Klavier’s cheek and he opened his lips and- he had caught Klavier’s lower lip and Klavier thought he was going to bite, in revenge- but instead he  _dragged,_ his teeth scraping. And Klavier made a loud and garbled sound of desperation and hung on and there was that heat in his abdomen again.

Apollo moved back and licked his lips, and Klavier was certain he was going to die, just from everything.

"This is bad," said Apollo, and Klavier noticed that his chest was rising and falling rapidly too, and for once his eyes looked a little unfocused. Klavier searched for a smart remark to make about this, but he couldn’t really find one when it looked so much like Apollo  _did_  want him, maybe even badly, maybe even for longer than he’d thought-

"You liar," he started to say, but Apollo quickly kissed him again, warmer and slower this time, pulling against his lips, and Klavier was left panting through his nose in great puffs. It was almost unbearable, the sensations he was getting, and he could do nothing but press himself against Apollo, as close as he could, as tight as he could, trying to flatten himself into Apollo’s form. Apollo gave a strange laugh as they broke apart and Klavier buried his head into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, shivering, overwhelmed.

They sat still like that, tangled up close, and Apollo stroked Klavier’s hair a few times without saying anything.

Klavier spoke, his words muffled against Apollo’s skin, and Apollo twitched.

"Wha… what?"

"What are you trying to do to me?"

Apollo’s hands stilled. Klavier felt his body beginning to stiffen and felt a sudden surge of panic and gripped him tighter.

"Don’t! Don’t back away from me again!"

"Klavier-"

"Don’t! Don’t go! Don’t-" He was hardly aware of his teeth on Apollo’s skin until Apollo flinched and pushed him away.

"Apollo-!"

"I’m still here," said Apollo, frowning, and took one of his hands. “Look. Try to breathe more slowly."

Klavier belatedly realized how rapidly his own chest was rising and falling, and how his breath was coming in shallow little bursts.

"I’m- sorry."

"Don’t apologize," said Apollo, though he looked annoyed. A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he gazed at Klavier. “Just try to get calmer, if you can."

 _I am calm_ , Klavier wanted to say, though who was he really fooling. He felt ashamed again. _Weak_.

"I shouldn’t’ve done that," Apollo was saying, rubbing the side of his neck with one hand. “I’m sorry."

There were several thing Klavier would have liked to respond to this with, most of them quite angry, but he was too tired to be angry right then. He settled with, “So why did you?"

That made Apollo squirm, and he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, and grimaced, and squirmed again, and said finally, “Because I’m stupid."

Klavier laughed weakly.

"I like stupid men."

"Of course you do," said Apollo, sighing. “But we can’t just… you know. Look, you’re right, I shouldn’t be jerking you around. So I won’t-"

"I think you will," said Klavier. “Apollo Justice, you have made it very clear that you cannot keep your hands off me."

"That is  _not_ true!" He was blushing again, of course, and Klavier felt the shadow of his grin return.

"And since you don’t want to leave me alone, you will be ‘jerking me around’ either way, ja? So why not stop arguing and let me kiss you?"

"Oh yeah, this coming from the kid hanging off the bathtub," Apollo said irritably, then winced at Klavier’s expression. “Sorry. But look. Even if we put everything else to one side- which we  _shouldn’t_ , because I would actually like to not be arrested- you’re just not-" He grimaced. “I don’t want to take advantage of you."

Ah, so it came back to that.

_You can’t fall for the first guy who treats you better than your brother does._

In other words,  _you are emotional, you are unstable, and you are weak._

Klavier felt a little numb.

"I want to take advantage of you, Herr Justice," he said. “I want to cry more and have you pity me and make you kiss me again. I want to give you gifts and make you feel guilty so that you cannot stop coming back to me. I want to seduce you." He shifted his bare legs, crossing them, but Apollo was already flushed enough.

"Stop being creepy," he said, averting his gaze. “And I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you."

Now Klavier sighed. “Herr Forehead, you are no good at this game. Please do not say such things if you do not want to ‘jerk me around.’"

"I’m not going to lie to you!" Apollo’s tone was a tad defensive. “I kissed you because- because I knew you were feeling bad, and I knew it was my fault, and I didn’t know how to help you, and because I had wanted to since-" He coughed. “It was not a good decision on my part."

"Wanted to since what, hm?"

"Shut up. That’s a moot point."

Klavier rather disagreed, but he let it slide for the moment. “Very well. Then, since you have resolved not to make any more ‘bad decisions,’ just what is your plan? What exactly are you going to do with me from now on?"

This seemed to take Apollo off guard. “Um… nothing?" He hesitated. “I mean, no, not nothing. I just want to, you know, make sure you’re all right after everything that happened yesterday. And I guess that right now it seems better to me to make sure you’re not alone, thinking about it."

Klavier supposed the sobbing-in-the-bathroom episode would not have helped dissuade him from that notion. “You know, I really do have a roommate. His name is Daryan. You’ve met him."

Apollo made a face. “That guy…?"

"Oh, come on, Herr Forehead," said Klavier. “You have only met him once! He is one of my closest friends. I find him very good company."

Apollo’s face was rather set in its expression of dislike. “If you say so."

"Plus, he hates my brother even more than you do."

"I don’t hate Mr. Gavin," said Apollo, now looking vaguely confused. “But I guess that’s good, if he understands how bad your brother was for you."

Klavier’s first instinct at this statement was to bristle, and then to remind himself that it was true, and then to realize that yes, Daryan had always understood that.

"I should call him," he said. “He may be worried." Daryan might not have been able to watch the trial as it progressed, but he would certainly heard the news of the outcome by now. Klavier suddenly felt a little guilty. He had barely bothered to do anything besides shoot Daryan a hasty text the night before telling him he’d be sleeping elsewhere.

He hadn’t checked his phone yet this morning. Internally he cringed at what he might find there now.

"Maybe you should," said Apollo, though there was something vague about his tone. “I guess I should try to get in touch with Mr. Wright, too. He was acting weird when he left last night."

"Ja," said Klavier, recalling their dinner the night before. 

Phoenix had asked him, at one point, “So what did Ema actually say about the nail polish on the letter?"

Klavier had paused to chew and swallow his mouthful of spaghetti, keeping one ear on Trucy and Apollo as they bickered over whether or not to buy dessert. Ema had declined Klavier’s invitation to attend, citing a backlog of paperwork, though he had thought she sounded pleased to be invited, in her own prickly way.

"It was not so interesting as she made it sound," he had said. “She just said that she found traces of the poison in the nail polish itself."

"So he must have gotten some mixed in when painting his nails somehow," said Apollo, frowning. “That seems dangerous."

Klavier remembered thinking,  _Maybe he enjoys the feeling it gives him._

But neither of them could have anticipated Phoenix’s reaction, which was to abruptly stand up, jarring the table.

"Mr. Wright?"

"Sorry, kids," Phoenix had said, and tossed a few bills down on the table. “I just remembered somewhere I have to be."

"Aw, Mr. Wright!" Trucy had protested, but he was already walking rapidly towards the exit.

"That was certainly suspicious," said Klavier now, recalling the last expression he’d glimpsed on the man’s face. “He must have thought of something."

"Yeah, and it didn’t seem good," said Apollo, scratching his head.

"Herr Wright will speak to us about it when he is ready to," said Klavier. “Anyway, he paid less than half of what his meal cost."

"Oh yeah, he  _did_ ," said Apollo, brow furrowing angrily, and Klavier laughed.

"Is he not all you thought him to be, Herr Justice?"

Apollo’s frown deepened, and he looked directly at Klavier, and Klavier suddenly felt the need to swallow.

"We got a little off topic there."

"No," said Klavier. “You said you did not think I had people around me that would help me; I proved you wrong. You are not the only person that exists for me."

"That wasn’t exactly what I- all right, fine. You’re right, maybe I am overstepping my bounds." He scowled. “So fine. I’ll leave you alone more, I guess, if that’s what you want."

Klavier did kick him this time, though lightly. “Herr Justice, stop acting like a ‘teenager.’"

"Oh come  _on_ , Kla-"

Klavier moved then, pushing himself off the bathtub, to crouch between Apollo’s outstretched legs. Apollo’s breathing seemed to get shallower, and he bumped his head against the sink trying to back away.

"Here is what I think," said Klavier evenly, putting one hand on Apollo’s bare leg. “I think that you would like to be near me simply because you like me- no, no, do not interrupt- and I would like to be near you simply because I like you. All other notions and tangles are arbitrary.  _Ja_?"

Apollo stared at him, pressed his lips together, swallowed, and said, “I don’t think that’s all arbitrary, but all right, I see what you’re saying."

"That is good! So here is what I propose: why should we pretend otherwise, and move away from one another? I do not think it serves much of a purpose. You do not have to  _sleep_  with me," he added, seeing Apollo about to interject, “but can’t we… can we not…"

The even, rational tone slipped away from him then. “Can we not be with each other?"

Apollo looked like he wanted to say something to this right away, and he opened his mouth several times, but each time the sight of Klavier’s face so close seemed to unnerve him, and he would look away, and frown harder, and then frown lighter, and then look back.

Klavier thought it was the most unbearable ten seconds he had ever experienced before the redness started spreading on Apollo’s face again.

"All right," he said.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter lying around for a while but I forgot to post it... whoops!

Klavier must have been lying there, dreamy-eyed, on the hotel bed for a good ten minutes or so while Apollo bustled around trying to locate his left sock. He was feeling very good. He wanted to get the words “All right" engraved on a golden plaque to place above his mantle. If he had a mantle. He would get one of those too.

"All right."

He wanted to giggle and hug himself like a teenage girl.

Apollo stopped going through the drawers in the bureau to give him a look.

"Are you actually going to pack?"

He was, Klavier was pleased to see, still a little pinkish, and the prolonged and enthusiastic hunt for the missing sock had been a mite suspicious, especially as he kept loudly announcing that that was what he was doing.

"What’s to pack?" Klavier gave him a lazy smile. “We didn’t bring very much to start with. Anyway, we missed the deadline."

"I know that," said Apollo, every inch of him describing aggravation. “Which is just  _great_ , by the way."

"I’m very sorry," Klavier said, rolling on his stomach so he could look at Apollo plaintively. “But we should make the best of this situation. Come back to bed with me and we can use up the remaining time."

"Oh my  _god_ ," was all Apollo managed to say, before he had to turn around and face the wall to compose himself. 

"I am kidding," Klavier added, before Apollo could have a fit of conscience and call off everything he’d just worked on.

"You are so not," grumped Apollo, but he turned back around.  _Definitely_  pinker. Klavier felt positively giddy.

"Nein, nein, of course I am. Though you could stand to kiss me again."

Apollo’s reaction was fascinating: his mouth opened and closed, his eyes narrowed, he got briefly pinker, and then he shook his head. “I’ve got work to finish up, and I want to have it done by the time Trucy comes back. There’s no time for that stuff."

"Ach," Klavier said mournfully. “I see how it is. You take a boy out to dinner, spend the night in a hotel, but the next morning, when he says he wants to see you again, you-"

"Stop," said Apollo, now caught halfway between mortification and outright laughter. “I kissed you twice before, didn’t I?"

"You expect me to sustain myself on two kisses? For how long, hm? I am a rock star, not a god."

Apollo laughed out loud this time. “I still haven’t seen any evidence of this rock star business, you know!"

"It is not  _my_  fault you are a hermit obsessed with law and spaghetti, Herr Forehead." He snapped his fingers and sat up. “Of course! I will give you and the Fräulein tickets to our next concert. It is in two weeks, at Sunshine Coliseum. I expect your humblest apologies afterwards."

Apollo furrowed his brow. “You booked a venue  _that_  big?"

"When will you start believing me when I tell you the Gavinners are a sensation, Herr Forehead?" Klavier shook his head. “Honestly, if you expect to call yourself my boyfriend, you should learn…"

He trailed off, seeing the change in Apollo’s expression.

"Is that word… forbidden?"

"No," said Apollo, though he still looked unhappy. “Not exactly, I guess. But it might be better to not, you know…"

"I understand," said Klavier, trying not to sound as tense as he suddenly felt. “I will not go to the  _presses_  with anything, ja?"

Apollo was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “Maybe we shouldn’t tell Trucy, either."

"What? Why not? I think the Fräulein would be-"

"Look." Apollo cut him off. “She’s just been through this whole trial, and the business with her father, and her grandfather, and now Valant- I just want her life to be stable. I want to be there for her. All the way there."

"All the way there…" Klavier picked at the blanket. “You want to lie to her?"

"Of course I don’t, but…"

"Ah, let me rephrase that: you think you  _can_  lie to her?"

"Oh come on, Klavier!" Apollo was glaring now. “I just… This just makes everything more complicated, okay? Not to mention the fact that if we’re ever going to work on the same case again, this will compromise everything."

"You exaggerate," said Klavier, frowning. “Certainly I can see how the media could take our relationship and spin it that way, ja, but we are both competent people, and we will both do our jobs regardless of personal feelings."

Apollo laughed, incredulous. “I can’t believe you can say that, after this last trial. Regardless of personal feelings…? Everything was almost ruined because-!"

"I did it! I put my brother in jail!" Klavier shouted, hands fisting around the blanket. “I did it, didn’t I?"

Apollo looked taken aback.

"I… wasn’t talking about you."

Klavier said nothing, and Apollo looked away, no doubt enmired in his own guilt. Klavier realized, with a kind of sick feeling, that Apollo really  _didn’t_  think he had done anything wrong, had not let his feelings interfere with accusing his brother. Of course he did not. Klavier had not told him about the nail polish on the letter, about how he had tried to stop Ema Skye from testing it at all.

"Apollo," he said, still feeling sick. “The next trial will not involve your sister, or my brother. The next trial will be with people we do not know, whose troubles we do not know… All either of us want is to reach the correct verdict, isn’t it? I fail to see how we could compromise that."

"I’m sure we could find a way," said Apollo sourly, but to Klavier’s surprise he was moving closer, coming to sit on the bed beside him, suddenly very warm and present.

"What… what is it?"

"I guess you’re right, though," Apollo said. “The next trial really shouldn’t be so difficult."

"Yes…"

Apollo leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “We just need to take it slow."

"Ah, you are a bad man, Herr Justice!" Klavier’s hand went up to touch the spot of its own accord. Apollo was grinning. “Give me a real kiss!"

"That was totally a real kiss!"

"I’ll show you a real kiss-" Klavier began, aggravated, but Apollo leaned out of his reach.

"I can’t help it if you find me  _so_  attractive, you know, me and my big forehead-"

Klavier glared at him, sitting there with his rumpled shirt and his tie half-done, one sock still missing, cowlick starting to form, and that smug, punchworthy grin-

"You are disgustingly attractive, Herr Forehead."

"Same to you, Prosecutor Piano."

Apollo did kiss him then, while he was laughing.

 

* * *

 

Klavier was unable to convince Apollo to spend the day cuddling with him in the hotel room, which logistically was probably for the best, even if it left him feeling sulky and unloved. Apollo was right, though, there were things they both had to do- unpleasant things, like paperwork, and even more unpleasant things, like confronting Daryan. The thought of that made Klavier, who had retreated back to his office, sigh and rest his forehead against his threaded fingers.

He had actually intended to do his paperwork, and even bite the bullet and text Daryan, but instead he found himself leaning over his speakers with a guitar in his lap.

It was strange, if he really thought about it, that he had not touched any of them since- since the night Kristoph had visited him in his office. His music was his solace in times of stress or trouble, after all. Perhaps it had been  _because_  it was all about Kristoph, and Kristoph did not like his music, did not like to hear him play, did not like the idea of Klavier being in a rock band…

No, that was not true. At one point Kristoph had liked his music; it was he who had, initially, paid for his first guitar lessons after their disinterested parents had ignored his requests.

"But are you sure you don’t want to play the piano?" he had asked, a little meanly, and had laughed when Klavier scowled at him.

He had listened when Klavier had plucked those first few tentative notes, head tilted, smiling,and had praised him afterwards. Klavier couldn’t remember the exact words, but he did remember the pleased blush that had spread through him all the way from the tips of his toes.

Now he had to wonder, of this and a thousand other tiny moments in his memory, if any of it was at all genuine, or meaningful, or…

He picked up the neck and strummed a loud chord, breaking his own reverie. He did not want to dwell on such things. He did not want to have to sit alone in his office with nothing but his own thoughts, either. Apollo had made such a big fuss over leaving him alone, and now he had done just that. 

That was a selfish thought. Klavier strummed another chord. But so what if it was selfish?

Ah. Here came another. He fumbled for his pick, and played all three. He had a sort of melody now. Something like- something like-  _Love on the Other Side of the Courtroom_ -

He chuckled to himself, still playing, for it was really starting to come together now. No way to tell if it was a song that would go anywhere yet, but it felt good just to sit there and compose. He had been, now that he thought about it, in a bit of a rut. At least the recent drama was contributing to his artistic ability.

He slid a piece of paper closer and jotted down a few lines. Ah, the song was  _transparently_ about Apollo. He’d have to change that if he was going to show the lyrics to Daryan, who was usually good at transforming Klavier’s somewhat syrupy words into something edgy and cool-sounding. But he was used to that; after all, the early peak of their success had been while Klavier had been madly in love with Daryan himself.

His cell phone suddenly rang, from all the way over on the desk, and Klavier gave an explosive sigh and slung the guitar over his shoulder so he could go pick it up.

He had been secretly hoping it would be from the number he’d labeled “Große Forehead," but when he looked at the screen, it was not a number he recognized. Fifty percent chance it was merely a groupie who’d gotten ahold of his number, but then again, he would not be adverse to some ego-stroking at the moment, all things considered.

He answered it.

"Ja, this is-"

"I know who you are."

Klavier’s chest constricted, and his skin suddenly felt icy cold.

At his silence, Kristoph continued.

"Sorry to have to disturb you, but they only give me one phone call."

"Ah- yes, of course." The reminder that Kristoph was  _in jail_  was both unpleasant and comforting. “How- how have you been?"

Kristoph laughed.

"Oh, I’ve been doing very well, Klavier. They have me in capable hands here, and you know how I enjoy a good schedule. But I did not call to exchange formalities."

"I see," was all Klavier could say. “Then…?"

"Since I will be away for a while, I’d like you to take care of a few things for me. If it’s not too much trouble."

"Of course not," Klavier said, tongue feeling thick.

"You’ll need to cancel my appointments, and temporarily shut down the office. The house will need to be locked up securely, unless you are planning to stay there…?" After a few moments of silence, he continued. “I thought not. Check all the windows, make sure everything is turned off. It would probably be best if you turned off the power and water too if you are not planning to visit it at all."

He continued to rattle off a long list, most of which Klavier barely heard, because he was too busy wondering why Kristoph was being so  _normal_. He had steeled himself to be picked apart and ruined, and yet somehow this was more frightening. It was as if… as if his brother was only going away on a business trip, or something, not being jailed for murder.

"One more thing," Kristoph said, and his tone had changed a little, so that Klavier went ramrod-stiff. “I’ve decided what to do about the dog."

"The dog…? You mean Vongole?" At the name, Klavier felt a little guilty. He had not checked on the retriever the night before. Poor Vongole- she was probably hungry!

"Yes," said Kristoph. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take her to the vet for me. I’ve scheduled an appointment."

"Of course I will," said Klavier, feeling even guiltier. “Is the Fräulein sick?"

Kristoph chuckled, the sound tinny coming from his phone speakers, and Klavier could imagine him shaking his head.

"I’m having her put down."

"Put-" Klavier was agog. “What do you mean, having her-"

"I find myself not liking the idea of paying some shelter or filthy kennel to look after her," Kristoph said, voice still amused. “And frankly, Klavier, I have my doubts about you being able to handle the- ah-  _responsibility_  of owning a pet."

"To have her killed just because of that?" Klavier felt sickened, the phone clenched in his hand like it was rotten fruit, as he wanted so badly to thrust it away from himself. “Don’t you care for her at all?"

"Certainly it is regrettable," said Kristoph. A hint of low color entered his voice. “She was well-trained."

Klavier felt the sting, like he’d been slapped.

"I’m not going to put her down," he said. “I will find her someplace."

Kristoph sighed. " _Klavier_. Letting her spend so much time with someone else means she will just pick up bad habits. That just means that when I return I will have to train her all over again. It simply isn’t worth the effort."

"What do you mean," said Klavier, feeling cold again, " _when_  you return?"

Kristoph laughed, this time low and with less restraint.

"My, my, Klavier. You really need to study a little harder. I am in jail because I have confessed to murder, naturally. But I have yet to have a trial."

His stomach churned. That was right. Of course that was right.

"But you confessed!"

"Certainly," said his brother. “Without evidence, and under a great deal of duress, might I add. I do wonder how my trial will go, in those circumstances."

Klavier gripped the edge of the desk. “You mean to retract your confession?"

"That is entirely up to me and my attorney," said Kristoph, and Klavier could swear there was a hint of glee in his tone. “By the way, I would be honored if you would choose to prosecute me."

That was when Klavier dropped the phone and knelt to retch, the guitar on his back knocking rudely against his desk. He thought he heard Kristoph’s faint laughter for a moment before the phone went silent.

He had to crouch like that for a long while- he was not sure if he really would vomit, he felt so sick- but after a time he groped for the top of the desk and shakily pushed himself up.

His first thought, shaky and spiraling upwards from his consciousness, was  _I will not let him get to me_.

This was certainly Kristoph’s calculated revenge. Kristoph was exceptionally vengeful; this Klavier had actually always known. He was relieved that he had recognized it right away, but then again it mirrored a thousand other occasions when he had made the mistake of embarrassing or angering his brother. This was certainly a bigger slight than any of those had been. Perhaps Kristoph had been plotting this even before he had confessed. Klavier felt ill again, but in a more distant way.

_You are so petty, Kristoph._

He put his guitar carefully back on its stand, snagged his keys, and went to see Vongole.


	22. Chapter 22

"I don’t know if this is the best time, Klavier."

Phoenix Wright’s voice was haggard and weary-sounding over the phone, and surprisingly unsarcastic.

"It is only a small favor," Klavier pressed. "It would mean a great deal to me."

"Well, I still don’t understand. Who’s Vongole, and why does she need someone looking after her?"

"A dog, Herr Wright, she is a dog. She merely needs to be walked and fed, twice a day-"

"Wait, a  _dog_? Whose dog? Your dog?”

"My brother’s dog."

"Oh." There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Okay, and pardon me for asking, but why can’t you just watch her?"

Klavier pressed his lips together. “Because I am going to be extremely busy for the next few weeks.”

"With what? You have a new case already?"

"Nein, nothing with the law. I have a very important concert coming up."

"Ohhhhh," said Phoenix, in a drawn-out way. "A  _concert_.” There was a great deal of rustling, and then he sighed. “You know what, all right. A dog. Sure. I’ve dealt with worse animals. It can’t be that much harder to take care of than a plant, right?”

Klavier made a neutral sound. 

"Ha ha, okay, that was a joke. I mean it, I’ll do it. As a friend."

"Thanks, Herr Wright. I will leave the key at your office later today," said Klavier, rubbing the side of his cheek with his fingers. "And I will reimburse you for your time."

"Hey, that’s not bad. Maybe I can go from lawyer to dog-walker."

Klavier hung up before the jokes could get even more depressing, and took a slow breath.

"You done with all your little obligations?"

Klavier laid his phone down on the kitchen counter and turned. Daryan was lounging on the couch, guitar balanced between his spread knees, flicking idly at the strings. He had taken his pompadour down for the night, and the long strands of hair draped around his shoulders made him oddly more menacing than usual. Perhaps it was the way his black eyes glittered up at Klavier from between his bangs.

"For now," said Klavier, guarded. Daryan had been strangely quiet since he had gotten back to the apartment, greeting Klavier with a cursory nod and no questions at all, merely watching him as he nervously flicked through his remaining paperwork and made the necessary calls.

Daryan put the guitar aside and stretched, arching his stomach up, and then slumped back into the cushions.

"Asking Phoenix Wright to look after Kristoph’s dog, huh?" A slow, unpleasant grin spread across his face. "I’d ask what the hell you were thinking, but I think I’ve got you figured out."

"What, Daryan?" Klavier leaned forward on the counter, grinning himself. "What reason would I have to ask Phoenix Wright, the one man my brother absolutely cannot stand, to look after his beloved dog for him?"

"Nasty!" said Daryan, pounding his fist against his thigh. "Didn’t know you had it in you, man. Finally, though, right? You’re finally kicking that bastard to the curb!" He let his head drop back and laughed. "How many damn years have I been saying it? He’s a bastard! I tell you, when I watched you take him down at the trial, I…" He shook his head, seeming quite unable to find the words.

Klavier kept his smile fixed on. “Ja, it was quite something, wasn’t it.”

Daryan raised his head slightly, smile thinning. “Yeah, it was. By the way…”

"Yes?"

"Don’t you ever fucking disappear like that again, you got it?" 

Klavier held still, waiting for the inevitable. Daryan’s smile had vanished entirely.

"I dug up half the goddamn town looking for you last night, man. I thought we were gonna celebrate together. Then when I couldn’t find you, I got real worried- do you understand, Klavier? Do you see what I’m getting at?" He slammed one boot into the coffee table. "I thought you might have done something stupid, you got it? I was real fuckin’ scared!"

"I’m sorry," Klavier began to say, but Daryan shook his head, his hair sliding over his shoulders. 

"I shouldn’t have had to hear where you were from that weedy little attorney instead of you, you son of a-"

"Wait a moment." Klavier cut him off, frowning. "You mean, you spoke to Apollo?"

"Course I did! I called everybody! You weren’t picking up your damn phone, of course, so I got all the numbers I could off the police register.  _He_  just told me you were with him, and that you weren’t coming back cause it was late, and then hung up.” Daryan hissed through his teeth. “Next time I see that shrimp, I’m gonna beat the red out of him.”

"When exactly did-" Klavier hesitated, seeing the way Daryan’s dark eyes had narrowed. "Well, that is not important. I am honestly sorry, Daryan. I know you were the first one I should have spoken to last night. I was simply… not in my right mind."

"Yeah, you weren’t, but I don’t buy it," Daryan bit out. "If I know you at all, Klavier, you would’ve come straight back last night and you would’ve been sitting here on the couch agonizing when I got home. Instead you spend another night with this  _kid_. What’s the deal? What the hell hold does he have over you?”

"Daryan…"

"Don’t bullshit me this time, Klavier, I’m warning you."

Klavier spread his hands in a placating gesture. “Daryan. You will have to accept the fact that I have gotten closer to Herr Justice and his sister over the course of this trial. That is all right, isn’t it?”

Daryan did not respond to this, and Klavier, sweating, tried to take a different tack.

"If you want me to be completely honest…" Ah, yes, he  _could_  say this, this was true. “Having sent my brother to jail, I did not want to return here and… celebrate. I know that the news makes you very  _happy_ , and I- I was not ready for that then.”

Daryan processed this statement, cocking his head slightly and crossing one leg over to jiggle his foot on his knee.

"You should’ve called me."

"I know," said Klavier, in a rush, relieved. "It was wrong of me to leave you out. I promise I will not do something like that again- you are my bandmate, and my closest friend, ja?"

"Don’t get  _gay_  on me,” grunted Daryan, turning his head away, but Klavier could tell he was pleased. He shifted his shoulders back and stretched, blinking rapidly, dispelling tension.

"All right. Whatever. Doesn’t even really matter."

"I do mean it, Daryan."

"Hmph." It was quick, but Klavier spotted a rare, genuine smile on his friend’s face, flickering in and out like candlelight. Rapidly the customary irritation took its place.

"I said whatever. Now, can you please get your head out of your ass long enough to pull off this concert?"

"Please, Daryan," said Klavier. " _I_  was the one handling the European tour. You are the one who is out of practice.”

"As if," said Daryan, and he sprang up and snatched his guitar from the cushions beside him. "I’ve been working on our material every freakin’ day. Work is hell right now anyway."

"Why? Some international debacle happening?"

"Nah, the opposite,  _nothing’s_  going on! No murder, no smuggling, kidnapping, nothing!” Daryan laughed unpleasantly and struck a discordant chord. “I’m dying, Klavier!”

"Some would consider a lack of crime to be a good thing, Daryan," Klavier said, raising his eyebrows. Daryan laughed, and let his fingers ripple across the strings.

"Don’t play the pure one with me, friend. Without crime we’d be out of a job- ain’t that right? What the hell would we write songs about?"

"That reminds me," said Klavier, tapping a beat out onto the countertop. "I have a new melody in mind."

"Yeah? It better be good, man. We need a hit for this concert. I still can’t believe you’re letting that joke of an old lady headline with us."

Klavier laughed. “You said her singing was beautiful when I showed you the video- yes, you did, do not shake your head! The crowd may be there for the rock, but no one can help but fall in love with her voice.”

"I think the word I used was ‘acceptable,’" Daryan said, "but whatever. You always gotta have that little bit of- what do you call it?" He slung the guitar over his shoulder by its strap so he could use both hands to make exaggerated air quotes. "’ _Culture_.’”

Klavier shrugged, flicked at his bangs. “You Americans. Always it is the lowest common denominator with you.”

"Hey, don’t you dare suggest our music is lowest common anything, punk." Daryan shoved by him rudely to yank open the fridge. "What the hell do you want for dinner?"

"Watch the guitar, please-" Klavier flinched as the bottom knocked against the fridge. "Ah, that reminds me. I need to take the guitar to the office, finally."

Daryan grunted, retracting from the fridge’s interior with a baggie of something in his hand. “ _That_  guitar, huh? When exactly are you planning to unwrap it? It’s been sitting on your bed since you got it.”

"I told you, I won’t open it until the day of the concert. It is very important to me, ja? I don’t want to risk anything happening to it."

Daryan rolled his eyes and slapped the baggie onto the counter. “Whatever. I think this is chicken. You want it?”

"Sure," said Klavier, though he wasn’t all that hungry. His mind was already racing over the prospect of the concert. Soon- it was so soon, and he had so much to get ready. He found his spirits lifting. It would be work, but work he liked, work that would keep his mind busy. He would not have time to think about… everything. Even Apollo. But perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps with a little forced separation, his feelings for the attorney would…

"Hey, are you all right?" Daryan was scowling at him, rolling a can from hand to hand. "You look a little red."

…calm down.

 

* * *

 

Time passed blessedly quickly after that, as Klavier threw himself into the process of concert planning.  _Music_  was suddenly back in his life, and what a wonderful thing that was, because it was never soft, never quiet, never lonely. His prosecutor’s badge gathered some dust in the drawer of Daryan’s coffee table, and if Klavier jumped a little every time his phone rang, it didn’t matter. He never got the call he was frightened of.

He saw Apollo only two or three times during the weeks leading up to the concert, when they could both make time for one another. Apollo himself was busy, in a way that made Klavier feel strained and unhappy whenever he spoke about it; trying to help Trucy adjust to their new life together, trying to get in touch with Phoenix Wright, who had been strangely aloof lately, trying to secure a new client. The last was the worst, because Apollo was getting more than a little desperate, looking at the money needed for Trucy’s clothes and food and school supplies, not to mention his own rent. The stress of it all made him look pale and hollow in his red suit. No one would hire him. No one, it seemed, was that desperate to hire the attorney the papers had labeled as “a revolving door of insane accusations.”

The papers didn’t seem to think Kristoph was guilty, either.

When they could, Apollo and Klavier shared a few chaste kisses, quick and clumsy, but every time he touched Apollo’s lips Klavier could feel how fragile it all was becoming and found himself, strangely, making more excuses to stay away.

 _After the concert_ , he told himself, again and again.  _After the concert I will sit down with him and we will figure out a way to help him._  But not now. Now he needed- he needed time away from all of that. He needed his own time, to be doing what he loved. He did not need to feel Apollo’s strained gaze on his back just yet.

 _After the concert_.

He had assured himself enough of this that he gave Trucy and Apollo free tickets, after his initial joke about a discount price fell rather flat against Apollo’s unflickering stare.

"The Fräulein will enjoy it," he said, almost defensively, as he kept trying to press the tickets into Apollo’s limp hand. "Come on, Herr Forehead. You could use a day off."

"I don’t have time to take a day off," Apollo said, in that sour tone that made Klavier wince and wonder why he was even subjecting himself to this. Daryan was waiting for him at his office, to finalize the plans for the middle act.  _He_  didn’t have time to take a day off.

They had met at People Park, where Trucy was still doing her old gig, the balloon stand- except now it was mainly tricks, and not balloons, that she was selling. Today she had amassed quite a crowd, parents and their little ones all jostling to see as she whirled a handkerchief into an elaborate cast-iron statuette, and Klavier and Apollo had found themselves shoved back towards a bench under the shade of a tired old oak tree.

Klavier had sat down, but Apollo was up, nervous, live-wire, putting his hands in his pockets and smoothing his waistcoat and scratching at the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it stubble on his jaw. He looked at the tickets he was holding, frowned, and then  crammed them into his wallet. Klavier held back a wince.

"We’ll go," he said, glancing towards Trucy. "I guess I’m fooling myself, thinking I’m actually busy."

"Come on, Forehead," said Klavier, leaning back with a sigh. "Let the Fräulein be the moneymaker in the family. Is that so hard? Are you- what do the Americans say- too sexist? A sexist pig?"

"Funny," said Apollo. "Very funny. She’s fifteen, Klavier. She shouldn’t have to support her older brother. She shouldn’t be working at all."

"She enjoys it, though."

Apollo’s lips twisted. Klavier pressed a little harder. 

"Didn’t you say she had a real job offer…?"

"At a  _bar_!” Apollo scowled. “Zak Gramarye may have been a terrible father, but I don’t think even _he_  would have let her do that.”

Klavier let his head drop back so he could roll his eyes towards the foliage above them. “I think the Fräulein is a lot more mature than you give her credit for.”

"I don’t want her to be mature, Klavier," said Apollo, tone low and heated, and Klavier felt uncomfortable, and couldn’t quite pinpoint why. He pulled his head up slowly, and saw Apollo quickly look away.

Another particle of unhappiness, like a flake of snow, settled onto him. He tried to brush it off by sitting up fully and saying, “Well, I think even you will enjoy the show, mein tone-deaf Herr Forehead. Have I told you about the middle act?”

"No," said Apollo, looking suspicious, and tinged with a little pink from the  _mein_.

"It will feature a songstress I met in Borgnia," said Klavier. "An uncommonly beautiful voice, a song like no other. It could bring a man to tears."

"Uh-huh."

"You will know what I mean when you hear it," Klavier told him, and Apollo shrugged.

"Does that kind of music really belong at a rock concert?"

Before Klavier answered, Apollo abruptly jerked, stiffening.

"What’s happened?" asked Klavier, reaching for his wrist, but Apollo was moving to dig in his back pocket.

"Sorry. Cell phone. I keep forgetting to turn it off vibrate."

"Does it ring very much?" said Klavier, and Apollo gave him a narrow-eyed look, and answered the phone.

His expression changed at once.

"Mr. Wright?"

Klavier raised his eyebrows, and Apollo shrugged, frowning at whatever Phoenix was saying on the phone.

"Right now?" he said. "It can’t wait?"

"What, what is it," Klavier said, stretching to poke at Apollo with the toe of one boot, and Apollo flapped an irritated hand at him and put a finger in his other ear. The crowd had just erupted into cheers over something Trucy had done.

"What!" he yelled, and several people looked back at him. Klavier put his arm over the back of the bench and tried to look like their proximity was coincidental.

"Do you want me to go or not?" Apollo was demanding. "Stop stalling!"

The crowd was dispersing now, and Trucy was approaching, looking flushed and excited.

"Polly!" she cried, and then hesitated, seeing him on the phone, and made an exaggerated detour around him so she could collapse onto the bench under Klavier’s arm.

"Did you see?" she said, grinning. "They loved it, Klavier! They all cheered for me!"

"I saw," said Klavier, and squeezed her shoulders slightly, wanting to give her a kiss on the cheek, though that might have been too European for her. "You were wonderful, Fräulein, absolutely stunning! I want to see you perform again and again!"

"Aw," said Trucy, now blushing in earnest, looking very much like her brother in a moment of abashed honesty. "You’re just saying that. You weren’t even watching."

Klavier put a finger underneath her chin, lifting her head. “I was watching until the crowd got too thick to see,” he said. “Then it did not matter, as the crowd was cheering loudly enough for me to know you were performing miracles.  _Ja_?”

Trucy swallowed and smiled and seemed to glow a little under his words.

There was a snap, and their attention turned back to Apollo, who was frowning. He’d shut his phone.

"I am not harassing the Fräulein, I promise," said Klavier, hastily removing his hand, but Apollo only gave him a slightly mystified look.

"It’s not that. Mr. Wright just called me. He wants to see you and Trucy."

"Huh?" said Trucy, sitting up. "Just us two?"

"Yeah," said Apollo, brow furrowed. "He said, specifically, that I couldn’t come. Because of my ‘look,’ apparently. What’s wrong with the way I look?!"

"Maybe there’s a bull there," said Trucy, and Klavier stifled a snicker.

"Perhaps Herr Wright did not mean your ‘look,’ but your ‘look,’" he suggested.

“ _Huh_?”

"Oh, yeah, Apollo’s  _look_ ,” said Trucy, and for a moment she and Klavier turned to nod sagely at one another, enjoying the rising heat in Apollo’s expression.

"You two-" He stopped himself, shook his head. "Whatever. If Mr. Wright thinks I’m not the person to go, that’s fine."

"I don’t think it was personal, Forehead," said Klavier, but Apollo was already getting all thin-lipped.

"If he’s asking, it must be important," he said. "You two should go. Right away."

"Now?" exclaimed Trucy. "I was gonna to try to put on another show in an hour! How long d’you think this will take?"

"I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me," Apollo said. "Wouldn’t tell me much of anything, except he wanted you two to meet someone."

"Mysterious," commented Klavier. "How very like Herr Wright." He hesitated. He should say he couldn’t go, that he had a responsibility to Daryan and the band, that he was work to do. Which he did.

Who did Phoenix Wright want him to meet?

It was as if his dusty prosecutor’s badge, buried down in Daryan’s drawer, was silently tugging at him.

"Want to take my hog, Fräulein?" he said, turning to Trucy. "I can personally guarantee that you get back in time for your show."


	23. Chapter 23

The directions that Phoenix had texted Klavier took them through a relatively well-to-do neighborhood, with spacious-looking apartment buildings with little scrubby gardens and black iron fences. Klavier parked his hog along the street, tilting his sunglasses down to wink at the middle-aged woman walking her dog nearby. She bridled and tutted. Trucy hopped off the seat behind him, giggling, positively giddy from the ride.

"I have to make Polly get one of those!" she cried, and Klavier gave a rather undignified snort at the mental image.

The apartment they were apparently visiting was on the very top floor, and they took the elevator, though Trucy pestered him for the decision to forgo the extra exercise.

"Apollo always runs up the stairs in the morning  _three_  times, and he does his voice exercises at the same time,” she informed him, as if this were something praiseworthy.

"We can’t all have the energy of Herr Forehead," he replied. "Especially those of us who are rock stars. It does not do to look red-faced and puffing all the time. My Fräuleins would not find that very attractive."

"Apollo does look like that a lot of the time," Trucy admitted, then added, with a truly evil grin, "but that hasn’t stopped people from finding him attractive."

At this Klavier gave her a very startled look, but she was already off the topic, prattling away about a magician who’d managed to make elevator buttons multiply. He attempted to smile and nod, wondering at her ability to make him break out in a cold sweat so quickly.

They reached the top floor, and when the elevator doors opened Klavier was nearly bowled over by a tall man in a grey sweatshirt.

"Sorry!" cried the man, dusting Klavier off, and then Trucy laughed, because it was Phoenix Wright, looking bizarre without his blue suit.

"Herr Wright, what are you-" Klavier started, and then was smacked into a  _second_  time, this time by a blur of brown fur.

"Hey! Stop that! Sit!" cried Phoenix, to no avail, as Klavier sighed and petted the head of what he barely recognized as Vongole, staring up at him and favoring him with a broad doggy grin.

"Oh!" cooed Trucy, and Vongole turned to her and allowed herself to be cuddled ferociously. "What a cute doggy!"

"Yeah, sorry," said Phoenix, scratching at his stubbled chin. "She keeps getting more wild. I brought her up her thinking it would help, but it had the opposite effect."

"Help with what, Herr Wright?" said Klavier, picking at the dog hairs on his jacket. "You’ve been very mysterious about this whole adventure."

"It might not matter anyway, at this point," Phoenix said, looking glum. "But here, let’s all get out of the elevator, because someone might actually want to use it."

They walked down the long hall, dog in tow- perhaps sensing an endless source of cuddling, she had stayed glued to Trucy’s side, and Trucy seemed happy enough to oblige her. Phoenix took the time to try and fill Klavier in.

"You remember Drew Misham?"

Klavier had not been expecting to hear that name, but he nodded.

"The forger, ja.  _Your_ forger, if I am remembering correctly.”

Phoenix smiled humorlessly. “Right,  _my_  forger, for the forgery  _I_  made. Well, he’s been missing for a while now. Did you know that?”

"I hadn’t heard, but it makes sense," said Klavier. "He had to know he would be under watch by the police even after it was promised he would not be prosecuted, ja? You cannot expect the law would forget something as heinous as forging evidence."

"Undoubtedly," said Phoenix. "But his disappearance stinks, Klavier. He left something behind, and he wouldn’t have done that of his own free will."

"Oh?" said Klavier, raising his eyebrows. "I think you would be surprised at what a desperate man is willing to desert. What did Herr Misham leave behind that was so valuable?"

Phoenix stopped walking in front of a door- the last door, to be precise, in the hallway.

"His daughter."

"Oh," said Klavier. He looked at the door and saw that it was unmarked, without even having a number. Next to it was a red mail slot, looking strangely bright and new. The sight of it made Klavier feel faintly ominous, though he had no idea as to why.

Phoenix put a finger to his lips, hushing Trucy and the dog, and knocked gently on the door. “Vera?”

There was no response, not even the sound of movement. He persisted. “Vera, I’m sorry about the dog. I didn’t mean to startle you. Please let me talk to you again.”

There was still silence. Klavier shifted, skin prickling a bit, and hooked his thumbs into his pockets. There was an odd sort of smell coming from behind the door, one he couldn’t place.

Phoenix glanced at Trucy, who was kneeling, hugging Vongole’s neck to keep her quiet. 

"Also, do you remember that person I told you about? The person you would want to meet?"

A few more seconds ticked away, and then suddenly Klavier heard a very soft creak.

"Well, that person is here now," said Phoenix, encouragingly. "I told her that there’s a fan who wants to meet her. Won’t you open the door and let her in?"

"Wait," Klavier whispered. "Herr Wright, I don’t think that is a good-"

"Shh!" Phoenix grabbed his arm. The sound of a deadbolt sliding back was audible behind the door.

The door opened a crack, slowly, and for an instant Klavier got a glimpse of someone much taller than he had anticipated before it banged shut again.

"Ah," said Phoenix. "You scared her, Klavier."

“ _Me_?”

"Why are you wearing your sunglasses indoors, anyway? And your jacket! You look too intimidating."

"Herr Wright," said Klavier, who was on the verge of being  _extremely offended_. “I do not think I will be taking any fashion advice from you.” He dropped his sunglasses low enough to give the man’s sandals-and-sweatshirt ensemble a pointed once-over.

"This is not about fashion," Phoenix was saying, when Trucy suddenly shouldered her way between the two of them, looking determined.

"Excuse me! Miss Vera? Is that your name? Can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Ah, Trucy, that’s not going to-" Phoenix began, but Trucy ignored him, smiling a little harder, making sure her top hat was angled correctly.

"I heard you were a fan of my grandpa’s troupe, and I would love to give you your very own show, if that’s all right!"

There was a very long pause after that, and at one point Phoenix started to open his mouth, but Trucy put a finger to her lips, eyes narrowing.

The door opened a crack, and Klavier beheld a long, blank-looking face. The girl’s eyes darted between the three of them and lingered on Trucy, on her clothes and hat, and her lips parted.

It seemed like the three of them all leaned forward in anticipation, but no sound came out of the girl’s mouth, and she quietly closed the door.

"Ah," said Trucy, slumping a little, but there was the scrape of a chain being removed and the door opened again.

"You can… come in," said the girl, eyes downcast, and she shuffled to one side.

Klavier found himself exchanging a look with Phoenix, who was nearly smiling. 

They went inside the tiny apartment, and Klavier discovered the source of the strange smell he’d noticed earlier: paint. Lots of paint. There was hardly a space in the entire area that did not scream  _art_  in some way; what with the clutter of old paint cans and brushes and easels with half-finished paintings. Quite a few things looked strangely new, Klavier noted, like the shopping bag full of paint tubes that was lying carelessly on the ground beside a little stool.

And then there was the girl herself, who had not spoken at all once they had entered, and was just standing there, tall and dull, avoiding eye contact. Klavier’s nervous feeling did not ease at the sight of her; rather, it worsened. There was something about her, about the helpless way she stood, about the childish clothing she wore- corduroys, teddy bears, _safety_ \- something about it all made him very unnerved, almost frightened. There was almost a sense of sickness in the shabby apartment, with this strange girl at the center of it.

Phoenix elbowed him, and he blinked, realizing he was staring.

"Hi, Vera," Phoenix said. "Sorry I ended up bringing more people. But I thought you would like to meet this young lady- I believe you know her name?"

For a moment Vera was quiet, though her hand began migrating towards her mouth, and then she balled it into a little fist, as if determined.

"Trucy… Gramarye," she said, and a small pleased flush suddenly colored her features. Klavier was startled- for a moment she had looked almost lifelike. But the effect was temporary.

"Yeah," said Phoenix. Trucy went up to Vera, smiling her brightest.

"May I shake your hand? I love shaking the hands of my fans!"

Slowly, shyly, Vera offered her hand, and Trucy shook it enthusiastically.

"I also brought him," said Phoenix, jerking his thumb towards Klavier. "Do you listen to much music, Vera? You might have heard his songs on the radio."

Vera dropped Trucy’s hand and shook her head, eyes on the floor again.

"Ah," said Phoenix, glancing at Klavier. "Sorry. I thought- since she’s a teenage girl- never mind, it’s still better than having Apollo here."

Klavier was inclined to agree, as much as he did not want to. Apollo would have gotten very quickly frustrated with the situation. As kind as Klavier knew he was, he also had a poor way of managing his temper. Not a particularly wonderful trait for a defense attorney, but they couldn’t all be Kristoph Gavin, after all.

"I take no offense," he said, conjuring up a disarming smile. "If the Fräulein is ever interested, I will sing for her."

Vera shook her head, a bit more quickly this time, and Klavier found himself more relieved than offended. He wanted to leave. 

There was a loud clatter, and they all turned to see Vongole standing over a pile of empty paint cans, tail waving slowly.

"Um, how about I take her out for a minute?" said Phoenix, leaning to grab her collar. "She seems like she needs it."

"What?" said Klavier, and at the same time Vera made a tiny sound, as if she wanted to protest, and her hand went up to her mouth again.

"Trucy, show her some tricks," Phoenix said, aiming a wink at her, and added an inscrutable look towards Klavier, and then he and the dog were out the door.

There was a beat of silence, and Vera’s eyes widened a bit, though her face remained void of expression.

"Well, I don’t have all my props, but I’m sure I can conjure something up," Trucy said, touching the brim of her hat, and Vera looked at her.

"Would…" Her mouth worked a moment, and Trucy leaned forward earnestly, fists under her chin.

"Would you like… some coffee?"

"Oh!" said Trucy. "Well- yes, thank you!"

Vera did not respond to this, just put her head down after another moment and shuffled towards what must have been the kitchen. Klavier could see more piles of art supplies on the tiled floor when she pushed the door open, and it looked as if the kitchen table was covered over in a splotched blue tarp.

As the sounds of clattering porcelain got louder, Trucy drifted over towards Klavier.

"What do you think Mr. Wright wants her to tell him?"

"What makes you say that?"

Trucy rolled her eyes. “He obviously wants some kind of information from her. That’s why he wanted us here, isn’t it? To open her up? I think it’s a little bit mean, personally.”

"Mm," said Klavier, eyeing her. "I suppose it is. I have a feeling that Herr Wright has a personal interest in her information, however."

"Why is that?"

"Do you remember what he said the day you were arrested in my office?"

"Uh… I was a little distracted that day, to be honest."

"Well," said Klavier, eyes on the half-open kitchen door. "He said something along the lines of this: Drew Misham isn’t really the person who forged the evidence in that trial, and someone else was, and he had to show Apollo to that person to see if they recognized him."

"You don’t mean  _she’s_ -” Trucy put a gloved hand to her mouth. “She couldn’t be!”

Klavier was inclined to agree; their host did not look like the type to be involved in illegal activity. 

"There may be more to this than we know," he said. With Phoenix Wright involved, he didn’t doubt it.

"Yeah, but he specifically said Apollo shouldn’t come," Trucy pointed out.

"I think that means he does not think Apollo is the forger anymore, Fräulein."

"Oh,  _that’s_  good. But wait.” She steepled her fingers frowning. “I get why he invited me, but you- does he think you’re the one who commissioned the forgery, now?”

"Ha," said Klavier, shaking his head. "That would be quite something, considering what we’ve been through."

"You’re right," said Trucy. "I guess it was just for your music, like he said."

“ _Just_ ,” Klavier was starting to say, when Vera reemerged, with two steaming mugs in her hands. She glanced up at them, seeming a bit startled to see them clustered together in front of the door, and then took a careful detour around them, eyes averted, to set the mugs down on the table.

"Oh, thank you," said Trucy, leaning to take one, but just then Vera’s eyes widened again and she snatched up the other mug. Trucy froze.

Vera wavered, and then stretched out her arm.

"For you."

"Oh," said Trucy, and took it from her, and then suddenly smiled. "Look, Klavier!"

The mug was red, and emblazoned on it was a peculiar symbol, a Chinese character stylized to look like the profile of a man with a top hat. Trucy was grinning.

"That’s my grandpa’s mark. The mark of troupe Gramarye!"

"Oh, how wunderbar," said Klavier. Trucy elbowed him.

"Don’t be sarcastic! Look, she brought something for you too. You should say thank you!"

Klavier didn’t want coffee. 

"Thank you," he said, wondering if she would try to snatch his mug away, too. But she did not, only leaned away from him a little when he bent to pick it up.

"Oh, Klavier," Trucy scolded. "Why don’t you take off your sunglasses now? You’re making her nervous."

Klavier seriously doubted the glasses had anything to do with it, but he sighed softly, and used his free hand to pull them off. “Better?”

"Much better!" Trucy said, reaching up to tweak his chin. "You have such nice eyes, too!"

"All the more reason to protect them," Klavier said. "And to protect the Fräuleins, too. The glasses are very necessary."

"What do you think, Vera?" Trucy said, turning to her, and then her smile faltered.

Vera was standing stock-still, staring at Klavier, and her frozen features had shifted, just slightly, into an expression of fear.

"Fräulein?" It was catching, for there was a fluttering in Klavier’s gut as well. "Is something the matter?"

"D…" Vera’s hand went to her mouth, and her teeth scraped the edge over her thumb. 

"Devil."

“ _Devil_?” Trucy looked bewildered. “You mean, because he’s a rock star?”

"I have to admit, that is one I have not heard before," said Klavier. "Fräulein, I assure you, my good looks may be intimidating, but I am a creature of this planet."

Vera did not respond to his joke; in fact, she had not responded to anything, just kept staring at him, her gaze boring into his face. It was a different sort of look that the kind Apollo could give- he did not feel as though he were being probed and broken up into all of his tiny components- but in its blank simplicity it was still unnerving.

Suddenly she looked away.

"No…"

"No?" prompted Trucy.

"Sorry," Vera elaborated. "I… mistook you."

"Mistook me?" Klavier said, tone still light, and then paused. Trucy was flashing him a very worried look.

"Who did you mistake me for, Fräulein?"

This made Vera flinch, and her hand went to her mouth again.

"That… is something I’m not…"

She wavered, hesitating.

"…supposed to say."

Now Trucy’s looks were not just worried but highly meaningful. Klavier tried to ignore her.

"Who told you not to speak about it, hm? Your papa?"

Vera shook her head, slowly.

"I see," said Klavier, as ever, wishing that he did not. Trucy stepped closer and laid a hand on his arm.

"I’m sorry," said Vera, casting her gaze down at the floor.

"Oh, it’s not your fault," Trucy said urgently, and Klavier added, as he set his still-steaming mug back down, "Do not worry about it. This devil, he is very persuasive, ja?"

Vera looked at him again, assessing his features.

"Yes…"

"Ah," said Klavier. "Well, he cannot hurt you anymore, Fräulein. He is locked away now."

Vera’s eyes widened again. “He is…?”

"Yes, so you have nothing to fear."

"But he didn’t…" She seemed bewildered now. "He didn’t hurt me. He was kind. He gave me-" Suddenly she clammed up, snapping her mouth shut, eyes even wider.

"What?" asked Trucy, looking as though she was at her wits’ end. Klavier shook his head.

"I believe the Fräulein was not supposed to mention that, ja?"

Vera looked at him again, mild fear in her gaze. Klavier couldn’t help but think little of the ‘kindness’ this devil had given her.

"Do not worry," he reassured her, again. "You are safe, ja? Yes?"

"That’s right," said Trucy, leaning forward. "Oh, and I finished my coffee. You can have your mug back."

Vera looked at the mug, then gave a little startled twitch, for it had somehow turned bright yellow.

"Whoops!" said Trucy, though she was grinning. She passed a hand over it. "There, that should fix- oh, no!" 

"That’s  _blue_ , Fräulein,” said Klavier, playing along, though he was also as mystified as ever at her skill. He looked at Vera, to find her still expressionless, and was rather annoyed. Couldn’t she at least attempt a smile, for what Trucy was doing for her?

By this point the mug had become a rubber duck with a tiny rubber top hat, and Trucy announced loudly that she was giving up. “Here, I almost forgot about your mug,” she said, shaking her head, and reached to pull it out, correctly colored, from behind Vera’s ear.

This was obviously the end of the little show, and Klavier clapped, and made all the correct appreciative statements. But Vera stood stock-still, expressionless, hands clutched to her chest. 

Trucy’s smile faltered a little.

"Well, I’ll put it down for you," she said, setting it on the table next to Klavier’s full one, and twisted her hands together.

"Um, Klavier, do you think maybe we should go soon? Apollo’s waiting for us…"

Klavier put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you are right. We have taken up enough of this Fräulein’s-“

"Wait!"

That was Vera, unexpectedly loud, and she reached down into a pile of art supplies in a sudden scramble, pushing old canvases every which way until she found a large sketchbook. She fumbled it open and pulled a piece of charcoal out of her front pocket to press to the paper.

Trucy glanced up at Klavier, who shrugged, equally perplexed, as Vera’s thin fingers became a blur as she sketched.

She had apparently finished, for she let out a soft breath, and turned the sketchbook around. Trucy and Klavier leaned forward to see, and for a moment Klavier could not quite make it out, but then a slow smile crept across his face, for she had drawn… hands. Many hands, clapping.

Trucy gave a delighted little giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Wow! That’s so good! Thank you!”

Vera turned the sketchbook around and flipped to a new page, her hands moving lightning-quick again, and showed them her new drawing: a broad, smiling face.

"I’m happy," she said.

Trucy grinned and went to hug her, cooing many of the same phrases Klavier had heard her use on Vongole earlier. Klavier’s own smile was fading, for the image had struck him: the girl holding the picture of a smiling face, telling them that this was what she was feeling. There was a certain kind of horror about that.

"I'm happy."

A certain kind of  _sadness_ , too, if he were honest with himself. He wondered if even Apollo would be able to penetrate that empty gaze of hers. At what point had she... lost what she had lost?

He was getting that anxious feeling back again, that discomfort, and he shifted, rubbing the back of his leg with the toe of one boot.

"What’s that? You want to show me something?"

He looked up to see Vera tugging Trucy over to a small desk by her hand, Trucy looking positively charmed by it all. Vera let her go to carefully pick up a tiny red frame.

"What a cute little frame!" said Trucy, and then her brow furrowed. "Is that… a commemorative stamp?"

"Yes," said Vera. "It’s my… treasure."

"I see," said Trucy, looking unusually serious for another moment, but then she split it apart with another big smile. "That’s wonderful! Those are so rare. Come here and look, Klavier, it’s got a picture of my mother on it!"

Klavier obediently went over and looked, though he couldn’t make out many details on the tiny square aside from an impression of three figures in top hats. He surmised that the blue one with braids was the one he was supposed to be examining.

"She is very beautiful," he said, which seemed to make Trucy happy enough.

"Wasn’t she? Oh, I’m so happy to get to see her again. Daddy never kept many pictures of her, you know, just a couple that he had hidden away in his room."

Vera looked down at the little frame, and then suddenly thrust it towards Trucy.

"What- for me? Oh, no, it’s your treasure… I couldn’t!"

Vera pushed it into her hands insistently, and finally Trucy’s fingers closed around it, and she gave her a grateful little smile.

"Thank you, Vera."

Vera picked up her sketchbook again to flip back to the smiling face.

"Fräulein," said Klavier. "How old are you?"

Vera’s surprise at the question did not register in her face, of course, but he could hear just a touch of it in her voice when she answered.

"Nine… nineteen."

"Hey, you’re older than both of us!" exclaimed Trucy. Klavier himself was a bit shaken by the fact; despite her height she seemed so  _young_.

"I see," he said. "Well, I have enjoyed this visit, but we should go if the Fräulein magician wants to make her next showtime."

"Oh, I almost forgot about that," said Trucy. "And poor Polly is still waiting, probably."

"Yes," said Klavier. "And I believe we should try to collect Herr Wright as well. But, perhaps we will visit again? Soon?"

Vera gave a slow nod, her eyes fixed on Trucy.

"Thank you for the coffee," said Klavier, and Trucy chirped out her own farewells, clutching the stamp to herself. Vera followed them to the door, but suddenly got very shy again as it opened, almost cringing away from the entryway. Klavier wished he could stop noticing those things.

When Trucy finally shut the door, she gave a startled little cry, for Phoenix Wright was leaning against the wall on the other side. Vongole was napping at his feet.

"Good job, Trucy," he said. "Sounds like you really perked her up."

"Mr. Wright, you were  _eavesdropping_ ,” Trucy said, tone accusing, and Phoenix chuckled, pushing himself up.

"Three people would really be too much for her," he said. "Not to mention the dog. Anyway, she’s stopped trusting me since she knows I’m trying to get information out of her."

"About the forgery?"

"And about her father, yeah. He vanished nearly a week ago, and according to her it’s not a normal thing."

"I wouldn’t think so," said Klavier. 

"I knew Trucy would put her at ease. And Klavier- she saw your face?"

"You are awfully calculating, Herr Wright. It is not really becoming."

For a moment Phoenix looked rather grim.

"Yeah, I guess some things have changed for me, haven’t they."

"But you’re trying to find all that to help her, right?" Trucy said. "And Polly too, and everyone else."

"Right," said Phoenix. "Of course."

Klavier rolled his eyes and put his shades back on. “Let’s get back to the park, Fräulein.”

"Can’t you at least wait to put those on until you get back outside, kiddo?"

Klavier looked over top of them at Phoenix. “I don’t recall giving you permission to take Vongole out on field trips like this, Herr Wright.”

"Wow. Touché. Also, I think I’ve changed her name."

"Have you?" Klavier was a bit more amused than angry. "To what?"

"Oh, well." Phoenix scratched behind one ear. "I’ve been calling her Misty. Sounds a little nicer than ‘Vongollie.’"

"Well, anything sounds better when you say it that way."

"Ooh, Misty!" Trucy crooned, and lunged to scratch behind the dog’s ears again. "I like it better too! It’s cuter."

Klavier pictured Kristoph’s reaction to all of this, and smiled.

"It _is_  cuter, actually.”


	24. Chapter 24

After dutifully returning Trucy to the park, where she immediately dashed back to her stand to make her final preparations, Klavier tracked down Apollo a little ways away, sitting at a bench near a noodle stand.

"Have those noodles personally offended you, Herr Forehead?" asked Klavier, strolling up beside him, and Apollo started from where he had been peering into his bowl with a severe frown.

"They are extremely salty," he said, peering around nervously. "The stand guy went out somewhere right after I paid for them, too. I think I’ve just experienced noodle fraud."

Klavier laughed and slid in beside him. “Can I try?”

"Be my guest," Apollo said, handing his bowl over. "Don’t worry, it was never hot, so it won’t burn you."

Warned as he was by Apollo’s excessive use of sarcasm, Klavier still was not prepared for the taste of his first cautious bite. Apollo laughed merrily as the first tears sprang to his eyes.

"Mein gott," he choked, after he had carefully set the bowl far away from himself. "I think that there may be more salt than water in this."

"There are actually chunks," Apollo pointed out. "See?"

"No, no, those are onions!"

"Yeah,  _taste one_.”

"I think I will pass," said Klavier, and turned his head to quickly kiss Apollo on the lips.

"What was that for?!" 

"I am cleaning my mouth," said Klavier, and kissed him again, swiping his tongue against his closed lips. "Much better."

"Oh, you," Apollo began, face nearly matching his suit.

"Oh, me," Klavier said agreeably, and snickered when Apollo leaned over and pushed him against the back of the bench, rather fiercely locking their mouths together. 

He took some prodding, Klavier thought, under the haze of his own enjoyment, but when he could actually manage to get Apollo  _interested_ , the results tended to be quite…

He made an unintelligible little noise then, because Apollo was doing that  _thing_  with his teeth and Klavier’s lower lip again, and it made all of his thoughts scatter like cue balls.

"Salty," Apollo complained softly, between kisses, and Klavier pressed his hand against his thigh, to remind him to stay focused on the task at hand, though in truth the taste was a bit eye-watering for him too. He felt Apollo tensing underneath his fingers.

Apollo pulled back then, his slightly labored breathing casting warm little puffs over Klavier’s nose. They were an inch apart, Apollo still leaning over him, one hand on the bench next to Klavier’s shoulder. Klavier’s heartbeat felt like the throb of a distant bass at this point, and he started to lean forward.

"Who did Mr. Wright want you to meet," Apollo whispered.

Klavier leaned back. “Amazing, Herr Forehead. The moment is ruined. One second, one sentence. Incredible.”

"The noodle guy’s coming back," muttered Apollo, and sat back, rubbing his forehead with one knuckle. "And I need to know, anyway."

Klavier allowed himself one soft sigh- a man was indeed approaching them, and his getup made it impossible to describe him in any other way  _besides_  a noodle stand owner. No more kisses for the moment, it seemed.

"He wanted us to meet Drew Misham’s daughter. You recall the man?"

"Misham…" muttered Apollo, then his eyes widened and he smacked his fist against his palm.

"Clearly you do. Well, Wright seems to think it was the daughter who forged the evidence, not the father."

“ _Oh_ ,” said Apollo, nodding fervently. “Yeah, he was talking about that. So… why didn’t he want me to go?”

"I do not believe he suspects you anymore," said Klavier. "Anyway, she wouldn’t have recognized you."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because, Herr Forehead," said Klavier, who was starting to feel a tad sour, "she recognized _me_.”

Apollo stared at him for a full five seconds, blinking rapidly as he processed this new information. During his silence the noodle stand owner approached the bench, much to Klavier’s annoyance. He was a lanky man, dressed, oddly enough, in what appeared to be a surgeon’s scrubs, though he was also wearing what looked like an upside-down noodle bowl with false pasta hanging out over his head. At least Klavier assumed the pasta was false.

"You all done with the noodles, son?" he asked, chewing on one of the strands.

"Huh? Oh, oh yeah," said Apollo, a little faintly. "Thanks."

"Why, you’ve hardly touched it!"

"Yeah, uh, it was a little intense for me," Apollo admitted. "Thanks anyway, though."

The man tutted, lifting the bowl. “I’ll have to finish this myself, then. No point wasting good soup, you know. Starving children.”

"Yeah, um…"

"Say," said the man, "I see you around here often. You unemployed?"

Apollo pressed his lips together tightly at this, and Klavier couldn’t help but grimace.

“‘Cause I’ve got an opening at the noodle stand, you see,” the man continued. “You can see the trouble I have keeping it staffed at all hours. I’m afraid it might get stolen during one of my absences.”

"Well, if it does, Mr. Eldoon, you can call me," said Apollo. "Because I have a job. As a lawyer. That is my job."

"Herr Forehead, you are a defense attorney, not a prosecutor, so I do not think that would-"

"Quiet, Klavier."

"A lawyer, huh?" The man scratched underneath his weird pasta headdress. "You got a card?"

Apollo’s eyes brightened a bit, and he fished vainly around in his pockets a moment, then sagged. “Um, not on me at the moment. Sorry.”

"I happen to have one of mine," said Klavier, smoothly pulling one out to hand to the man, who took it with slightly damp, salty-smelling fingers.

"Very pretty," he said drily, inspecting the card, which was purple and laminated. "Well, son, I’ll look you up. I’ve been thinking about suing a feller for malpractice."

"Please," said Klavier. "I hate the thought of fraudulent business practices."

"You’re telling me," muttered the man, tucking Klavier’s card into his shirt pocket, and then tilted the bowl of noodles out onto the grass. "Aw, darn, look at that, I slipped. Waste of good noodles. Guess I can’t eat ‘em now."

Apollo and Klavier made sympathetic noises as he retreated back to his stand, blowing mournfully into the harmonica he’d been wearing around his neck.

"How did you know his name?" muttered Klavier.

"Well, it’s on the side of his cart."

"Oh. I thought that was an unfortunate lettering error."

"Ha ha. Also, he likes to watch Trucy’s shows, so I’ve see him around. I thought I’d return the favor by trying some of his soup, but…"

"The lengths you go to for your dear sister never fail to impress me, Herr Justice."

"Yeah, alright. We really need to get back to what we were doing before he interrupted us."

"Gladly!" said Klavier, leaning in close, but all the got was narrowed eyes in response.

"You know what I mean. Stop playing cute."

"Nein, no cute here, now we are very serious," said Klavier mournfully, but he dropped the act once he saw Apollo’s steely expression. He had clearly very much gotten out of the mood.

"That was all, Herr Justice. She looked at my face and seemed to recognize it. Since I was not the one who commissioned the forgery, I think we can both safely assume who it was she mistook me for."

"Really," muttered Apollo. "I mean, I guess… but you’re so different-looking. I mean, your hair’s completely different."

Klavier was actually unable to discern whether Apollo was being sarcastic or earnest at this point, so he let the comment pass. 

"Anyway, I think Herr Wright got the confirmation he needed. That is all. I am sure the Fräulein will fill you in on the finer details."

"Huh," said Apollo. "It’s kind of odd, though. Why bring this up now, all of a sudden? I mean, we more or less suspected your brother anyway, no offense…"

Klavier shrugged, looking away. “I do not know. Does it really matter?”

"Speaking of your brother." Apollo gave him a somewhat pained look. "Do you know if they’ve got a trial date for him yet?"

"They do not." 

"It’s weird, that it’s actually taken them this long…"

"No it isn’t, Herr Forehead. My brother is who he is, and he has many connections within the law. The newspapers reported that trial as a farce, and I am certain most people believe that he is innocent." Klavier sighed, and rubbed his temples. "I am sure he is merely gathering himself for the opportune moment."

Apollo went a shade paler. “That’s so unfair.”

"Yes, well, the law is not really fair at all, mein little forehead. Especially not to attorneys like you. My brother has spent a great deal of time and energy making the system work for him."

He was resting his forehead on his fingertips at this point, and so was a little startled when Apollo draped a warm arm over his back.

"What- what is it?"

"Um, nothing," said Apollo, holding him a little closer. "I just don’t want you to think too much about him right now."

"I can hardly afford not to," said Klavier, rather bitterly, but he allowed himself to be pressed against Apollo’s chest. It  _was_  distracting.

He didn’t get to savor Apollo’s warm fingers in his hair for more than a few seconds, however, before the tinny sound of a Gavviner’s hit single filled the air.

"Sorry," said Klavier, truly sorry, as he disentangled himself from Apollo. That was Daryan’s ringtone.

Apollo made a noncommittal noise and sat back, watching him fumble through his jacket pockets.

The moment he found his phone and accepted the call he had to flinch, as Daryan’s voice came bawling out of the speaker.

"Gavin, you little punk! Where are you? I swear to god, I’ll-"

"Daryan, calm down," said Klavier, turning away from Apollo, whose eyebrows had shot up. "I’ll be there in a few minutes."

"Calm down? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago! The old bag and everyone are here! You think  _I’m_  equipped to deal with this?”

"You are a member of Interpol, aren’t you?" Klavier couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his tone. "Isn’t that your job?"

"Klavier, I swear, I’m gonna cause an international incident if you don’t get your purple ass down here in five minutes. I will toss this little blind kid out your window. Do not give me your _shit_.”

"Alright, alright, I am coming, please do not commit a felony," Klavier said. "I’ll be there in ten minutes."

“ _Five_ , Klavier, or you will see some shit.” Daryan hung up on him in a storm of muttered curses.

"I take it you’ve got some business with the band," Apollo said drily.

"Yes, regrettably," said Klavier. "I’d better go now if I don’t want to be short one guitarist."

"What a great-sounding guy," said Apollo, wrinkling his nose. "He’s with Interpol? Really?"

"With Daryan, it was bound to be one side of the law or another," said Klavier, leaning over to tweak his nose. "But I assure you, he is firmly on the side he chose now."

"Yeah," said Apollo, rubbing his nose. "Sure. You’d better go before you end up having to prosecute him."

 

* * *

 

Klavier was glad he had made an attempt to put his messy office into some semblance of order the day before when he arrived, because even without any papers or guitar picks lying on the floor Lamiroir still made the place look like a dump just by standing there.

Klavier would have found her masked-and-hooded maiden schtick just a little over the top, especially for a woman in her forties, except for the way she pulled it off without a trace of falseness or irony. Indeed, the way her eyes creased in recognition as he greeted her made him feel wonderfully warm. He bent to kiss her hand, smiling, and she put a hand to her mouth and laughed softly. Even her laugh was melodious.

Daryan was there as well, sitting in Klavier’s massage chair- he made a mental note to chasten his bandmate for the rudeness of not offering it to the lady- and so was Lamiroir’s bodyguard, the bearded, treelike Romein LeTouse.

"Good to see you again as well, Herr LeTouse," said Klavier, letting just a touch of meaning creep into his voice- what had happened at his last meeting with the man warranted that. LeTouse gave no indication of understanding, though; merely shook his hand stiffly. Klavier was not sure whether he was relieved or not.

"Where is little Machi?" he asked, glancing around. "Has he not come today…?"

"Machi is feeling unwell," said Lamiroir, concern in her tone. "He has gone to the bathroom, I think, but he should be back soon."

"I’ll go get him," said Daryan, pulling himself out of the massage chair. "Now that you’ve _finally_  decided to make an appearance, mein friend.”

Klavier elbowed him as he slouched past, and Daryan jabbed him back.

"I can’t believe you left me alone with this shit," he whispered.

"Go get Machi," Klavier replied, in no mood for Daryan to embarrass him in front of their international guests. 

Daryan rolled his eyes and quit the room. 

Lamiroir’s eyes flicked down. “I hope we didn’t call you away from anything important.”

"Important? Oh, no, Fräu, not at all." Not unless you counted cuddling with Apollo as important- which, granted, it was.

"Your not-important business has made you late, I see."

That had been LeTouse. Klavier put on his most charming smile.

"Ja, I must make a better effort, I know. I hate to disappoint the Fräu."

"Please, I am not at all bothered," said Lamiroir. "It is better that you came later, for hopefully now Machi is over his upset stomach. He is suffering, I fear, from a bit of traveling sickness."

"Ach, poor boy," said Klavier, shaking his head. "I hope he has a chance to rest before the show. At least he will have you with him, ja?"

Lamiroir laughed again. “Yes, you are right. I tried to have him stay in Borgnia- traveling across Europe is one thing, but to go  _overseas_ \- but he was very insistent on coming. He hates to leave me.”

"Who can blame him?" Klavier leaned forward, smiling. "I am still honored that you came to perform with me."

"The honor is mine," said Lamiroir. "When we met in Borgnia, I was amazed at how talented you were, Klavier, at such a young age. I myself did not become a singer until I was in my thirties. I think you have very far to go."

Klavier laughed, embarrassed in spite of himself, and she continued.

"But, if I may draw your attention to the act I will be performing in the show…"

"Ah, yes," said Klavier. "I have not fully realized what my vision for that is. I would like the visual effect to be as magnificent as your voice, ja? …Which has been difficult to arrange. I had thought of even hiring some sort of visual effects designer, in fact, to aid me."

"Lamiroir’s singing should be sufficient," said LeTouse, frowning under his bead.

"No, I like it," said Lamiroir, reaching out to settle her hand on his shoulder- she missed the first attempt, and he had to guide it there. "Listen to Klavier, Romein. He knows more about the stagecraft in this country than we do."

LeTouse made a noncommittal noise, still pressing her hand against his shoulder.

"I would be glad if Herr LeTouse would hear me out," said Klavier. "Of course, anything he does not feel is sufficiently dignified can be discussed later, but for now we are merely in the planning stages."

"It should have been planned well in advance," said LeTouse.

"I have been considering whom to hire, as I said," Klavier continued, ignoring him, "and I think I do have someone in mind. They are a bit young, but they have a great amount of talent. I think they can make a dazzling visual show to match your voice."

"That sounds wonderful," said Lamiroir, bringing her hand back so she could clasp them together. "Oh- Machi, did you hear that? We will be part of a spectacle!"

Klavier was a bit alarmed, but then he realized that she was  _not_  talking to thin air, because the little boy had just stealthily entered the room. He drifted by Klavier like a frail blonde wisp and quickly reattached himself to Lamiroir’s side.

"Is your stomach feeling better?" asked Lamiroir, then appeared to recall herself and repeated the question in Borginese. Machi responded in kind, his heavy sunglasses giving no hint as to his expression.

"Daryan is not with you…?" Klavier asked, cutting in a little, and Lamiroir repeated the question.

"He says the long-haired man had to take a phone call."

Long-haired indeed, Klavier mused. “Ah, I see.”

Machi’s face was turned towards him now, silently, and Klavier suspected the boy was staring at him, though again those dark glasses made him impenetrable. They leant him a suspicious air where, Klavier suspected, none was warranted. LeTouse had made it clear to him the nature of the deception that the boy and Lamiroir were acting out, though he found it all a bit silly. Still, he understood the need to wear a mask before a crowd, if nothing else.

"Well, the gang’s all here now." Daryan was suddenly slouching in the doorway, grinning. "But I don’t see how we can plan much stuffed in an office like this. Tell you what- why don’t we drive down to the coliseum? I can borrow a police van. It’ll be a laugh."

"Daryan," Klavier started, frowning, but Daryan waved a lazy hand at him.

"It’s all right, I won’t be abusing my  _privileges_ or anything. They’re important international guests, right? C’mon, Klavier, lighten up.”

Klavier sighed. “I suppose an extra rehearsal wouldn’t hurt.”

Daryan clapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit. Alright, we better partner up for this field trip, so you can me buddy, and those two are obviously sticking together, and LeTouse- sorry, pal, I think you’re on your own.”

"What’s got you in such a good mood?" asked Klavier, quietly, amused in spite of himself at LeTouse’s expression.

"Nothing," said Daryan, though he was still grinning. "You want to get this concert done, right? So let’s get it done real good."


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks, it's been a while! You can thank ao3 user machiabellian for the existence of this chapter, because they left me a really sweet and kind review that really made a bad day better and inspired me to straggle on and finish the chapter.
> 
> Seriously, I really appreciate the comments. Thank you to everyone that has left one so far!!
> 
> I don't know when the next update will be, as I'll be busy with NaNoWriMo this November, but I don't plan to abandon this fic anytime soon. Thanks for putting up with the slow updates, all. Hope you enjoy this (admittedly short) chapter.

Klavier had a plan worked out the next day; an excellent plan, if he did say so himself, that would solve several problems quite neatly all at once. He had come up with the shadow of it the day before, and now he was certain that it was the best thing he could possibly do.

All he had to do now was call Apollo and arrange a meeting. 

He was sitting in his office, plucking at the strings of his guitar, working himself up to it. There was no real reason why he should be so nervous about calling Apollo; theoretically what he was about to say would be a very good thing, after all. But Apollo was so unpredictable and mercurial. It was hard to imagine what he would react like to anything, really.

Klavier supposed that was one reason he was so stupidly infatuated with him. For someone who by all rights should have been drab and boring, he had a hidden flashpoint of a personality within him.

His phone rang, jarring him, and he accidentally struck an ugly chord. He winced and set the guitar down before picking up his phone, thinking to himself that Apollo must have added psychic as well as lie-detecting to his list of abilities.

But he was wrong- it wasn't Apollo.

Ema Skye's voice sounded as crabby as ever when he put the phone to his ear. "You let it ring for long enough!"

"It has been a while, Fräulein. Good to hear from you, too."

Ema gave an unladylike grunt; he could hear rustling in the background. "There's been a murder, Klavier."

"What? A murder in  _this_  city?"

"Don't try to be funny. Last night. Someone was shot in the park."

For a moment Klavier was a little petrified, thinking  _Trucy- how late was she performing_ -

"It was a doctor by the name of Pal Meraktis. They've arrested some wannabe-gangster for it."

"I see," said Klavier, sagging a bit with relief. "It sounds like a simple enough case."

He could practically  _hear_  Ema's annoyed face. "Klavier… you should take it. We don't want to have to call back Payne from vacation. He's with his wife and kids."

"Fräulein,  _I_  am on vacation right now, something I am sure you remember we worked out well in advance. I am sorry, but I am simply too busy to take this case on right now."

"Yeah, but…" She dragged out a long sigh. "There's another thing. This kid, this gangster kid? Well, he's a wannabe, but his parents are the real deal. The Kitakis."

Klavier had to take a long pause. "Fräulein Detective, you are doing a poor job of making me want to take this case."

"Well, that's what Payne said too!"

" _He_  agreed to be on call. I did not!"

"The man is worried about his kids!"

"So I am a better candidate because I have no one to worry about?!" 

She was silent for a moment, and Klavier realized he had nearly shouted that last part.

"Sorry," said Ema. "Really. I didn't mean it that way. I only thought… you know, you're tougher than the old man."

"I know," said Klavier. "I know what you meant- I apologize for speaking that way. I am under pressure right now, you see. My concert is two days away. I have an act to finalize. I simply… I simply cannot drop everything for this case."

"Right," said Ema, her voice dropping low, and Klavier wanted to squirm.

"Anyway, the Kitakis have reformed lately, as far as I have heard. They're turning over a new leaf. I am sure Payne will be fine."

"Sure," said Ema. "He'll get their precious kid the death sentence, and they won't lay a finger on him. Right."

"Fräulein…"

"No, I get it. You're busy. Get back to working on your little  _show_."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the tone was already buzzing in his ear. He forced himself to put it down gently. She was springing this on him at the last minute, and she had the gall to sound  _disappointed_  in him? It was not his case! He had set the time aside, for his other job- he could not take this case!

He put a hand to his forehead and gritted his teeth, willing the flurry of emotions inside of him to calm down. She had completely ruined the pleasant anticipation he'd been feeling earlier. Now he was not even sure he should call Apollo- but no, he should, he had committed to this, it was important…

He picked up his phone again and dialed the number, a little shakily, and counted backwards from ten as he listened to it ring. This was a good thing. This would make them both happy. At least, he hoped so.

The phone clicked, and he heard Apollo's voice, falsely bright, say, "Hi! You've reached the phone of Apollo Justice at Gavin Law Offices! If you're looking for Mr. Gavin…"

He quickly hung up the phone. He'd have to remind Apollo to have that message changed.

Now he was a bit stuck, unfortunately. He really needed to get in touch with Apollo  _soon_  if everything was to go smoothly. He chewed his lip a moment, considering, and then snagged his keys.

It was time to visit the park.

* * *

 

He had almost forgotten  _where_  Ema had said the new murder had taken place, until he reached the park and saw the yellow tape, the parked police car, and the harried policeman.

He stopped his hog right by the entrance to the park, which made the policeman stiffen in annoyance, until he seemed to take a closer look and rigidly snapped into a salute. Klavier recognized him- he was the same man who'd been guarding the crime scene at the Gramaryes' hotel.

"At ease, Herr Officer," he said, taking off his sunglasses.

"Yes, sir," said the officer, lowering his hand. "Will you be entering the crime scene?"

"Not at the moment," said Klavier. Apparently the man had assumed that he was the prosecutor in charge of investigation, and Klavier wasn't keen to dissuade him. "No one can get in?"

"Of course not," said the man, eyeing him, and Klavier flashed him an enigmatic smile and crossed the street, lingering by the gates of the Kitaki manor. They were shut tight, and the family emblem- a fox- looked to be half-completed. A few paint cans sat undisturbed in the corner.

Klavier scuffed the toe of his boot across the well-swept threshold and sighed.

Trucy was clearly not performing here today. It looked as if he would have to travel to Apollo's apartment if he wanted to find him, but even then there was a good chance the attorney would be off somewhere else, job-hunting. He was running out of time.

"Prosecutor Gavin?"

He looked up, and to his very great surprise, Trucy herself was crossing the street to join him, her top hat tucked under one arm.

"Why, Fräulein! Are you having your show here today after all?"

"Well, I was going to try," said Trucy, a little peevishly, "but it looks like we can't even get into the park." For a moment her eyes glittered. "Do you think you could…?"

Klavier laughed. "Certainly I have the authority to let you into the crime scene, but Fräulein, who will you perform for? The dead man?"

Trucy wrinkled her nose at him. "You'll have to let my audience in too, silly! Or I could perform for the investigators- hey, is that Ema coming up the street?"

Klavier put an arm around Trucy's shoulders and steered her down the sidewalk and around the corner of the Kitaki manor. "Let's walk and talk, shall we? I'll buy you lunch."

"Prosecutor Gavin, are you avoiding Ema?" Trucy was grinning, skipping along willingly beside him. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Oh nein, but I would prefer to keep my jacket free of snackoo crumbs, you understand. But tell me, Fräulein, what is your brother up to today?"

"Apollo?" Trucy shrugged out from under his arm. "I dunno, before I sneaked out, I saw him on the phone."

"Ah, what was that? Sneaked… out?" Klavier gave Trucy, who was giving him her most beatific smile, a look.

"Well, you know Polly. He said that  _just_ because there was a murder in the park, I couldn't go! So I told him I was going to the drugstore instead."

"Fräulein…" Klavier wanted to laugh, but he suspected that wouldn't earn him any points with Apollo. "You will drive your poor brother into an early grave like this."

"He's my brother, not my dad," Trucy said, rolling her eyes expansively. "If he wants me to listen to him, he has to give me a better incentive."

Klavier found himself unable to argue with that logic, so he took a different tack. "Why don't we go back to your apartment together? I need to speak to your brother about something."

"Hm," said Trucy, tapping her chin. "What do you need to talk to him about?"

"Oh, well," said Klavier, feeling a mite uncertain- should he tell her now, before talking to Apollo? Something told him Apollo would not be pleased about that, but then again, if Apollo had been on the  _phone_ , clearly he would have had an opportunity to see Klavier's call earlier. Had he ignored it?

"As a matter of fact, it concerns you, Fräulein," he said, winking at her. "I think I have found you a suitable job, one that will pay very well."

"A job? Really?" Trucy's eyes lit up for a moment, but then she frowned. "It doesn't have anything to do with mopping floors or cleaning tables, does it, because Apollo's been saying-"

"Nein, nein, not at all. This job makes use of your magical talent, Fräulein, and Herr Forehead should be ashamed to waste you on menial tasks."

"Well, I think he might have been joking," said Trucy, but she was grinning. "So? So? Who will I be working for?"

Klavier gave her his most suave smile, framing his chin with his fingers. "Me, of course."

"You? You want me to put on a show for-"

"Nein, not exactly." He dropped the facade. "You must be aware that I am planning a very large concert in a few days."

"I mean, I can't go anywhere without seeing one of your posters, and all the girls at my school are talking about it, not to mention the tickets you game me and Polly…"

"Yes," Klavier said. "The girls at your school, hmm? Not bad. Well, anyway, I need assistance with one particular act involving a Fräu who goes by the title, 'The Siren of the Ballad.'"

"Ooh!" Trucy clapped her hands, eyes wide. "You mean Lamiroir!"

"Ah, excellent, you have heard of her. She is performing at my concert, of course, and I had planned a great spectacle to take place during her act, but regrettably, I am running out of time. I need a magician, Fräulein, to prepare a great illusion for me. One that will be worthy of the great Lamiroir herself."

Trucy went stock-still. "Wait… Prosecutor Gavin, you want to hire  _me_  to design an illusion? For- for  _Lamiroir_?"

"Only if you want to," said Klavier, smiling at her expression. "And if Herr Forehead consents to give permission."

"Oh… well gee, I…" Trucy seemed at a loss or words, fumbling with the brim of her hat. "Are you sure I'm qualified, for such a big job?"

"You are the most talented magician I have ever seen," Klavier said. "If I could, I would see you out there in lights by yourself. But I think that this, while humbler, will also be a suitable use of your talents."

Trucy had gone completely crimson by this time. "Klavier… I don't know what to say…"

"Yes or no would suffice," said Klavier, nudging up her chin. 

"Oh…" She blinked rapidly. "I mean, yes! Yes, of course I'll do it!" Her smile returned, sharp. "I can't wait to work on it!"

"Perfect," said Klavier, beaming down at her. "Once we clear the matter with your brother, we can-"

"Or," Trucy cut in quickly, "we could actually  _not_  tell Apollo."

" _Fräulein_."

"I mean, it wouldn't hurt him not to know, would it?"

Klavier put a hand in his pocket and considered her. She was watching him with the familiar mischievous glint in her eye, true, but there was something more to it, too. She was putting up a lighthearted front, but that would not fool him; after all, it was the trick he himself had perfected.

"Do you really think that?" he said, tone neutral. "You think your brother would not be hurt by that?"

Her eyes glittered; was that a spark of anger? "There's lots of stuff Apollo doesn't know," she said, brimming with sweetness. "I'm only looking out for him. He doesn't need more stuff to be stressed about right now, does he?"

Klavier figured he had got the measure of her now, as hard as she was trying to hide it from him. It made him feel a little wistful.

"Ah, yes, Herr Forehead has been very stressed lately, hasn't he. Trying to find employment…"

"Exactly," said Trucy, nodding. "Which is why this is a great idea, right? He'll never know- then one day I'll surprise him with the money-"

Klavier closed his eyes briefly, imagining the scene that would ensue if Trucy surprised Apollo with the tidy sum he was planning on paying her, earned through mysterious and shadowy 'work.'

"Fräulein, do you think your brother would really be happy to receive that money?"

Now Trucy frowned at him. "Of course! That's why he's looking for a job, isn't it? All he ever talks about is getting enough money, but he doesn't even like that I perform in the park anymore." Her tone dropped to a mutter. "He's just like Daddy."

Klavier was alarmed; this was worse than he'd thought. "You know your brother does not want money for its own sake, ja? He is very-"

"Worried, I know," said Trucy, a little too abruptly. She was leaning away from him now, looking down at the sidewalk. "I know that. I didn't mean it. He's not like Daddy. I know it's all because-" there was a low, nearly inaudible strain in her tone "-because he has to take care of me, and because I'm using up all his money, and…"

Klavier felt something drop down to the pit of his stomach, and caught her around the shoulders again and pulled her close to gently kiss her cheek.

"Do you know what I think?" he said. "I think Herr Forehead is much happier with you and no money than he would be with money and no you."

"That's cheesy, Klavier," said Trucy, but she stayed in his grasp, leaning into his chest. "And if he is happier, he has a funny way of showing it."

"Your brother is funny about showing anything," Klavier told her, which prompted a wobbly giggle. "He is certainly in trouble with me. I will have to talk to him about my dear Fräulein."

"Oh, don't  _say_  anything!" Trucy was protesting, pulling away, and Klavier grinned.

"I will have to say  _something_ , won't I?"

"Oh, stop it, Klavier!" she said, trying to look fierce and angry with him, but she was blushing and trying not to laugh. "You'll make him even worse! Every time he sees you he acts like he's hit his head or something for the rest of the day. I think you're a bad influence!"

This made Klavier pause, and he put his fingers to his chin, pondering.

"Now you're acting like it too," Trucy complained, and he blinked rapidly and put his hand down.

"All right, Fräulein, I don't want to be in your bad books, so I will not complain to Herr Forehead. But I will speak to him about the job, ja? There is certainly nothing for him to protest about, and even if he does, I think the two of us should be able to wear him down."

"Hm," said Trucy, touching the brim of her hat, then bounced excitedly in place. "All right! We'll take care of him together, huh, Klavier?"

"I am sure he will be delighted," said Klavier, and they shared a snicker, before Trucy took his hand and started towing him down the street.

"Then let's go! I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees you-"

"Ah, hold on a moment," said Klavier, tugging back. "My phone is ringing, Fräulein."

She let him go, now nearly hopping with impatience, and he fished his phone out of his jacket pocket. He raised his eyebrow at the name displayed across the front and put it to his ear, heart pounding more than he would ever care to admit.

"Ja, Herr Forehead?"

Trucy started and moved close to him, trying to hear; he tried to discreetly lean away.

"Klavier?" Apollo's voice was strangely breathy. "Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"Ah," said Klavier, feeling suddenly guilty for his earlier annoyance. "That's all right."

"I've got news, though. Big news. Thought you might like to hear- I mean- I thought I should call you back, and that's why I couldn't earlier, so I figured I could explain-"

"Herr Forehead," said Klavier, amused in spite of himself. "What happened?"

"Well," said Apollo, and Klavier could hear the grin creeping up in his voice. "I just thought you should know that I have a job."

"A job?" repeated Klavier, dumbfounded; next to him, Trucy loudly exclaimed, " _What_?"

"Um- was that Tr-?"

"A job as a  _lawyer_? Who are you defending?" Klavier demanded, cutting him off.

"Of course it's a job as a lawyer! Hey, seriously, was that Trucy? Is she with you?"

"Yes, she is with me, we met at the drugstore," Klavier said, waving impatiently at the air. "But-"

"You met at the drugstore? You were at the drugstore? The drugstore near our apartment? Buying what, exactly?"

"Herr Forehead, though I may seem essentially perfect to you, I am but a man, and every man must have toothpaste." He paused. "Why, was there anything… special... you wanted me to pick up while I was there?"

Apollo made a garbled sound, and beside him Trucy snickered, startling him. He'd gotten too distracted- best keep that sort of talk to a minimum, now. 

"Really, Herr Forehead, what case are you defending? I must know."

"Oh, well…" There was a brief pause. "Well, I'm not sure it's the best client I could have gotten, honestly, but beggars can't be choosers, right?" He chuckled in a rather strained way.

"Tell me!" Klavier was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. "Who is it that you're defending?"

"Geez, Klavier, you don't have to yell. Um…" There was a rustling sound, as though he was ferreting around on his table. "His name is, um, Wocky Kitaki."


End file.
